


Rainbows Come Only After Rain

by veselko



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bullying, Drama, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Guaranteed happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Abuse, Injustice, No Metaverse, Non-Canonical Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plotting, Sexual Harassment, canonical violence, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-08 13:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11082891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veselko/pseuds/veselko
Summary: False are the gods who demand your praise, because they will never grant your wishes. Happy endings are fairy tales, and reality kills them like sick euthanized dogs. If you want things done, you must dirty your own hands.Or: In which the Metaverse does not exist, but Akira is still very much a competent protagonist. Confidants are rife in Tokyo—Akira will take advantage of them.





	1. First Bruise

**Author's Note:**

> So I have everything in the first arc written out. I honestly don't know what I plan on doing in the long run, but it'll be fun messing around with the relationships and thinking of ways to solve society's problems without the Metaverse.

For all of his sixteen years, he lived in the same house and went to the same school. Changing from a humble countryside town to a metropolitan city was a drastic and exciting shift in environment.

Or at least, it would've been exciting if not for the circumstances that forced him to move to Tokyo. To be frank, he wasn't feeling all that excited.

Normal reactions say that he should be nervous, but that's not it either. When he steps foot into Shujin Academy, the whispers washed over him like a stifling blanket of heat. You'd expect the tips of his ears to turn red, but all you see is a wall of ice.

Maybe he should be feeling anger or sadness. Those two emotions would most certainly be appropriate for this situation too. It wouldn't do him any good, but it would make sense.

It would soon become known to the world that Akira Kurusu did not make sense.

.

.

.

"Oh. You're here," Kawakami-sensei stated rather plainly as he stopped in front of her desk. He knew it wasn't his imagination when he sensed disappointment in her words. It was as if she didn't expect him to come, and would rather he didn't come at all.

Understandable, but hurtful all the same.

She shuffled the papers on her desk, most likely lesson plans, and gave a great sigh as if burdened by the world before getting up. Maybe she was. He couldn't really bring himself to care.

"Well, come along. Class is about to start in a few minutes, and I guess I should give you a brief guide on how to get around," she simply said. There was no other way to describe how she used words.

It was as if she was dead inside.

He could relate.

"Your homeroom is 2-D. During lunch time, the school sells breads down at the entrance hall. Vending machines are all over the courtyard if you're thirsty. The library is in the 3F building and you're free to use it, but don't harass anyone."

She rattled off locations mindlessly as she led him to 2-D, and he half-listened to her drone on. In the midst of her talking, the school bell chimed for truancy.

"Well, this is it," she said. "Let's introduce you to your new class."

Kawakami-sensei stepped in. Just as she was about to yell for the students to quiet their murmuring—especially since they knew it was class time now—they silenced themselves on their own accord. He could feel every set of eyes trained on him.

"This is the new transfer student, Akira Kurusu."

He supposed that at this point, he could say something to lighten the mood. He could give them a sweet smile, make a little joke, soften his reputation and make himself a little less menacing, or share a bit of his humanity with them (even though the last vestiges of his kindness left like the wind when that woman testified against him).

He couldn't bring himself to manage much.

"Nice to meet you," he uttered, letting the words fall out like cotton packed too tightly in his mouth.

"He seems calm, but I bet when he loses it..."

"So he's the one with the criminal record? Scary."

"I hope he doesn't sit next to me."

Very nice to meet them indeed. He wanted to laugh.

"Uhm...well. I suppose you should take a seat...over there," Kawakami-sensei cleared her throat.

If he cared, he could hear the surprise in her voice at the behavior of the students.

.

.

.

The day was exhausting.

Have you ever met a camera man who couldn't take a picture? The requirement to smile and sit still for a full five minutes would make your cheeks twitch and ache.

Making sure he didn't show how fucked up inside took just as much effort, if not more. By the end of the day, he was ready to rush back into that dirty, cobwebbed cafe attic and just collapse on the ratty futon shoved in the corner.

Too bad life had other plans.

"So you think you're some hot shot since you've got a criminal record, huh?!"

Three boys with forgettable faces stood in front of him, their fists clenched not in anger, but in confrontation. They were picking a fight with him out of amusement and cruel curiosity.

"Was it true? Did you really kill someone? Was it a knife or a gun?" one of them mocked.

They were walking closer and closer, each step emitting a hostile intent.

"Well? You deaf? Mute? Say something!"

They shoved him into a wall, and he grunted. When did he move to such a discreet area?

"Hello? We're asking you questions here!"

"..."

And all at once, when it seemed like they wouldn't get the hilarity or thrill they expected, they pounced.

The first hit landed on his face, knocking his glasses away. His sight blurred. When he had enough sense to curl his arms protectively over his head, one of them used that to their advantaged and shoved their knee into his gut.

Repeatedly.

Next thing he knew, they had him in a headlock and he couldn't get escape from this at all.

His breathing halted and his heart thundered as they continued to hit him again and again and again. He tried to struggle out of the hold, but they were veterans who held their victims down with the grace of an eel chef butchering another life for his craft.

In another reality, one touched by madness, distortion, and talking cats, Kurusu Akira would've met Ryuji Sakamoto and this would've never happened.

Oh, they still met in this reality, and Sakamoto was just as hostile—if not more—to the passing car of Kamoshida earlier that morning, but on the way to school, they did not visit a foreboding castle and experience the threat of death together. Without that fantastical world, Sakamoto had no reason to ask Akira to meet him on the rooftop. Without that tear in reality, Sakamoto did not befriend Akira.

If a student with a "criminal record" befriended a "delinquent," everyone would have the common sense to stay away from him. If a student with a "criminal record" hypothetically became friends with the student council president, everyone would still stay away from him, but for different reasons.

Whoever he chose to associate with on a daily basis would decide how he was treated for the rest of the year.

Seeing that he was a loner made him easy pickings for the bullies, criminal record or not.

His last thought before he blacked out, was that Sakura-san would be mad.

.

.

.

He woke up on the concrete floor, slightly wet from his spit. His limbs trembled and his stomach throbbed with every breath he took. His glasses were a few feet away, and his bag looked as if they had ransacked it to see if there was any money.

There wasn't.

With nothing to show for their _hard work_ , they had instead taken Akira's transit pass. He would have to walk home.

Sakura-san would be so mad.

But it couldn't be helped. Painstakingly, he stood up and picked up his glasses and book bag.

It was dark by the time he saw Leblanc's washed out awning.

The inside of the cafe looked inviting and warm with a low orange light, much opposed to the shabbiness it boasted on the day of his arrival. His hands shook as he reached for the door handle, and almost flinched when the bell made a sweet jingle sound.

Sakura-san stood behind the coffee counter, arms crossed over his chest, and an impressive scowl sliding onto his usual mellow countenance.

"Where have you been?! It's late, and I would've closed the store hours ago!" he grunted out, and Akira scrambled for an explanation.

What else was there to do but to tell the truth?

But would Sakura-san believe him?

Probably not.

"Sorry."

"Sorry my ass," Sakura-san shook his head almost aggressively. "So where'd you get those bruises from? Starting trouble on your first day?"

"..."

"You do _remember you're on probation, right?_ " Sakura-san grilled. Akira nodded. "It doesn't seem like you remember. If I hear anything from the school, you're out. I don't need a bad reputation in my business, and I'm not your mom, reminding you to be on good behavior every second of the day."

Sakura-san looked like he wanted to say more, but upon glancing to the clock, he sighed.

"I'm closing up shop. Hurry up and go to bed. Next time you're late, I'm locking you outside, got it?"

He was expected to answer. So he did.

"Yes."

Akira quickly made his getaway, going up the stairs by twos and threes.

As he set down his book bag on one of the dusty tables—he swore he cleaned it yesterday—he wondered if it'll get any better.

When he heard Sakura-san close the shop and saw the lights flicker off, he made his way back downstairs with a towel, and soaked it just enough to wash his face and some of his bruises.

Was this what they called 'licking wounds?' Sure felt like it.

He didn't feel like doing the homework assigned, and it was already 11 p.m. so he crawled into bed and hoped tomorrow would be a brighter day.

His stomach growled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Japanese students usually get off at 3 o'clock. Assuming that Akira was heading straight home before he got attacked and blacked out, he might've started walking to Leblanc at around 4 or 5. Train rides in Japan take ten to twenty minutes at most if it's only two stations, and average trains go at 55 mph. That would mean in twenty minutes, a train would've traveled 18 miles.
> 
> An average human walks 3.1 miles per hour, so it would take Akira roughly five to six hours to walk home. If our protagonist had less determination, he probably wouldn't have made it home until 4 in the morning. RIP.


	2. The First Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our Protagonist makes his first move. Life waits for him to make a mistake.

He didn't remember the faces of the boys who took his transit pass. He didn't bother to. One day, they'll learn to be better human beings, or they'll get into trouble and know what it feels like to have a criminal record. Either way works for him.

But even as he releases a grudge he never held to begin with, he was reluctant to face them again. Not even an idiot would repeat the same actions knowing he would be beat up and left to die in a ditch.

As the final school bell rang and the students started filing out of the room, he stayed in his seat.

He had no after school clubs to attend—and none would accept him anyway so he didn't bother asking—but he decided to kill a few hours on school grounds. If the bullies waited for him, they were in serious need of a new life hobby. Akira hoped they were smart enough to go home and leave him alone.

If push came to shove, he didn't know what he'll do.

Maybe this time, he'll get another mark on his record for actual assault.

He laughed bitterly to himself, but stopped dwelling on it.

Instead, he pulled out the homework from yesterday and started working. It was more of an escape than any real need to do work.

Six plus twelve equals eighteen.

Subtract that from the left side, add it to the right side.

Divide both sides by two.

Isolate one variable.

Solve for x.

For a long time, there was only the silence of the classroom, the ticking of the clock, and the scratching of his pencil on paper. No drunken yells, no sharp echoing gavel, and no malicious murmurs.

No judgmental gazes he had to hold, and no expectations to be met.

"Uhmm...excuse me?"

He looked up to see someone else in the room too.

"I'm on trash duty today, so I'm also locking up all the classrooms. I'd appreciate it if you'd go home," the girl said, not unkindly.

Outside the window, the sun was starting to set. It's orange hues cast waves across the sky. He must have been here for a few hours already.

"Right," he nodded, and started packing up his work.

When it was clear that he wasn't here to cause trouble, the girl continued with her duty. She placed the chairs onto the desks so that her broom could sweep away eraser remains and notebook paper frills easier.

Akira couldn't imagine that she was doing this all alone, but the school was unusually quiet. Were they the only ones left here?

He figured it wasn't his business.

"Have a nice day," she smiled slightly as he headed towards the door.

"You too," he felt himself respond by instinct.

.

.

.

He settled into a routine after a week.

He would stay roughly three hours after school inside the classroom, and the girl would come at 6 on the dot to clean up and lock the doors.

He had, of course, tried going to the library instead, but he should've known better. On the day he had gone out of curiosity, he was too stubborn to leave. He had come, so he would stay, and stayed he did.

It was only half an hour before he had enough and headed home with haste.

Even the cubicle-structure of the desk couldn't stop his ears from picking up words meant to unnerve.

The empty classroom was a much better place for him to relax. Sometimes a few of his classmates would hang around, but within half an hour, they would leave after casting him a suspicious glance.

Today was no different. He was once again, working on his homework when the girl came in. He noticed she was limping. The clockhand was at 5 and 12.

"Oh, you're here," she said, then shook her head. "Of course you are. Sorry for intruding."

She gave a swift bow before continuing to sweep the floors and clean it of trash like always. There seemed to be a lot of dirt today, and she worked on getting the little particles out of the cracks in the wooden floor. The gentle swish of the broom didn't disturb him, and it would've been a calming noise to work to. Akira, however, found himself distracted anyway.

He wanted to ask her why she was favoring her left leg, limping slightly as she walked. He wanted to ask why she was an hour early. He wanted to ask her why she was cleaning the classrooms six days straight when these duties were supposed to be on rotation. Most of all, he wanted to ask her why she looked like she was about to cry.

He ended up staring, and she caught his gaze.

"I-is...something the matter?" she asked.

"I feel like I should be asking you that," he replied simply.

She was at a loss for words.

"My name is Akira Kurusu. Nice to meet you," he offered.

"Oh! My name is Shiho Suzui. It's nice to meet you too," she responded in kind. "You're...the transfer student everyone's been talking about, right?"

Before Akira could feel the slight chill of dread, she brushed it all away with her next words.

"There's been a lot of rumors going around about you, but don't mind them, okay?" she smiled. "I have a friend who's the same way. People always misunderstand her because she's so flashy. I think...after seeing you do homework everyday in the classrooms, you must be a studious person. You can't be as bad as people say."

"The rumors don't bother me," he reassures her, not knowing what else to say. Faintly, he wondered if the flashy student Shiho was talking about happened to be the girl sitting in front of him.

Rumors have it that she was a model...but he of all people knew better than to believe rumors.

"That's nice," she nodded. "Well, I should get back to work. These classrooms won't clean themselves."

He watched as she righted herself with a firm smile, but the sad air about her lingered. His next words fell effortlessly from his lips.

"Do you want any help?"

She seemed shocked at first, but it melted away in pleasant surprise. Her smile grew—hesitantly—just a bit bigger, if a bit shier.

"I-if you don't mind?"

"I offered," Akira smirked, slightly amused. He packed up his homework, and started upturning the chairs onto the desks. She continued to sweep.

Once he was done arranging the chairs, he waited for her to finish sweeping. There was only one broom after all.

"So why are you always the one to clean up 2-D?" Akira asked, making small talk.

"There's a roster in our class," Shiho said. "We're assigned to clean up a few classrooms for a week. I guess once everyone has had a turn on duty, the roster would move onto the next class."

"A few classrooms, all by yourself?"

"Well...no..."

Seeing that she was uncomfortable with answering, he changed the topic.

"So today's your last day?"

"Uhmm..." Shiho looked away. "No. This week Miki-san was supposed to be cleaning, but she said she had business to attend to, so I was covering for her. Next week is my turn for duty."

"Business to attend to for a whole week?" Akira frowned.

"I know...she might be lying, but if I don't do it, she'll get in trouble," Shiho shook her head. She looked towards him with steel in her eyes, edged with a kind determination.

So she knew she was being taken advantage of.

"You should tell the teachers. This is unfair for you," Akira pushed.

All at once, the determination left Shiho.

"The teachers don't care," she sighed. "As long as things get done, it doesn't matter if something is fair or unfair. Plus, it's not like I have anything to do today, so it's fine."

Akira knew that wasn't normal.

School lets everyone out at 3, but most students have club activities till 4. The latest stragglers always leave by 4:30, and the library closes at 5.

Shiho closes up the classrooms at 6, and though she's closing the classrooms early today, Akira couldn't help but wonder what about the other days when she closed the doors at 6? As far as he knew, she closed 2-D at 6. How many other classrooms did she have to clean before she could go home?

"So we're done here. Let's move onto the next room," he said as he watched her sweep all the gathered remains of this morning's lesson into a dustpan.

"Oh, you want to continue helping me?" she asked, startled.

"Of course."

She smiled.

"Thank you."

.

.

.

Shiho Suzui nearly had a heart attack when she first saw the black-haired male sitting alone in the classroom of 2-D. She had to clean the room, and if he didn't vacate it, it would be difficult to do so.

A few seconds upon seeing him, she recognized that he may be that one delinquent with the criminal record that everyone was talking about.

While she wasn't keen on believing rumors, everything held a grain of truth. If this boy could garner such a bad reputation before even the first day of school, then she had a right to be wary. Still, she didn't want to judge a book by its cover.

Seeing that he was focused on homework made him easier to approach though.

"I'm on trash duty today, so I'm also locking up all the classrooms. I'd appreciate it if you'd go home," she said politely, but firmly.

He looked up, and for a moment she was captivated by how unusual those glasses looked on him. He stared at her for a bit, eyes focusing as if coming back from a daydream, and nodded slowly.

"Right," he had said to her, and proceeded to pack up.

She figured that staring at him while he did so would be rude, so she turned to her broom and started on her job.

As he headed to the exit, she felt a need to call out to him and make him feel better about his reputation. He didn't seem all that bad.

She called a "have a good day" after him, and when he reciprocated her well wishing, she felt her own day brighten just a bit.

Rumors really did suck.

The day after, she was slightly disappointed that he wasn't there. She had to admit she was slightly looking forward to introducing herself and maybe make a new friend. He honestly didn't seem to be a bad person, if a bit misunderstood.

Or perhaps she was going into this too fast? Maybe there was something dangerous about him that she wasn't seeing?

The day after that one, he was back to sitting by the windows, homework scattered over his desk. He looked up with a brief greeting, and she returned it in kind. When he looked back down at his work, she decided to let him be. Maybe she was excusing herself from interacting with him by thinking she should observe him a bit more, or maybe she wanted to give him space and let him approach her on his own terms, or maybe she just lost her nerve and couldn't bring herself to befriend a rumored criminal...

Either way, day after day, he was there, she locked up, and that was the extent of their interactions. It became a normal thing, and though it may not be as regular as waking up every morning, it was as normal as her clean up duties. She became accustomed to him.

A week later, she found him staring at her as she worked. All of a sudden, the wariness that slowly wore off in their daily routine came back full force.

"I-is...something the matter?" she stuttered.

"I feel like I should be asking you that," he had replied smoothly, a small smirk on his face. His expression surprised her—she had always thought maybe he was one of those stoic, studious types, the ones who didn't like being bothered or distracted from their work. The curl of his lips made him seem a lot more human to her.

They made small talk, and he asked her questions.

She knew what he was thinking.

She was too nice. Being taken advantage of. Not standing up for herself.

But she's tried...and it never yielded any results.

He had enough tact to let it be, and instead, offered to help with cleaning up the rest of her duties.

They cleaned up twice as fast, and closed the doors of all the remaining classrooms by 5:30.

For once, Shiho didn't come home to a plate wrapped up in plastic and a note.

For once, Shiho ate a warm dinner with her family.

.

.

.

"Ann, this is Akira Kurusu. Kurusu-san, this is my best friend, Ann Takamaki," Shiho smiled just shy of brilliantly when she introduced them to each other.

"It's nice to meet you, Takamaki-san," Akira nodded, his expression calm as always.

"Same!" Ann grinned. "So I've heard you've been helping Shiho a lot after school, thank you for that. I would do it myself, but the modeling agencies always keep me busy."

"So you are a model?"

"Yeah. I started a while ago, and it's become a hobby since."

"That's cool," Akira nodded. "You'll have to show me some pictures some time."

"Ann's really pretty in photoshoots. It's like her charm goes all the way to 200%," Shiho commented slyly.

"Shiho!" Ann huffed, her cheeks starting to flush.

"It's true!"

Akira thought, maybe moving to Tokyo wasn't so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't sad. This didn't break your heart. Are you disappointed?
> 
> Don't be. Angst turns on full-throttle next chapter. *wink*


	3. Monsters Inside Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When everything around you comes crashing down, there's always someone you can lean on. Never forget that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There have been some added tags. Please check before reading, thanks!
> 
> Kudos are nice and all, but what really gets my blood pumped are comments. You guys have all been so nice and adorable—! Last time, I posted a chapter and immediately fell asleep. I woke up and there was so much love, I was immediately motivated to write more! And while I was writing, I got a few more comments! Bless you all. Have a chapter, double the length. *kisses*

His mornings were just a little brighter when Ann turns around in her seat to greet him with a soft wave hello. His lunches were just a little less lonely when the two girls chatted side by side with him.

It wasn't like back home, in that small town where everyone knew everyone else, and you could easily call the person halfway across the neighborhood your friend. In Tokyo, the masses were so big you had to settle for knowing just a few people.

What he shared with his first two friends at Shujin was much more different and new. It was a warmer, more cherished sort of companionship. Despite the rumors that floated ceaselessly around school, Akira found his apathetic nature melt just a little because of these two.

Last Sunday, he accompanied the girls on a day out. It didn't feel awkward for him or anything—the two girls were always mindful of doing things that he would also enjoy, and including him in their activities.

All in all, Akira was starting to feel like a normal student.

"I have another photoshoot today, but they wanted me to go to Shinjuku! I'm not sure how comfortable I am going there," Ann confessed one day as they were eating lunch.

"You can just have Akira escort you there! It'll be safer since he's a guy and all," Shiho joked.

"I don't mind," Akira piped in.

"See? He's like a portable helper robot," Shiho laughed quietly.

"Is that the only reason you befriended me?" Akira prodded back teasingly.

"Of course not—!"

"Uhmm...Suzui-san?"

The three of them looked up to see Mishima Yuuki. Akira faintly remembers that he was in the same class.

"Oh...Mishima-kun. What is it?"

"Kamoshida's asking for you," Mishima responded, not meeting any of their eyes.

"Oh," Shiho frowned. "Did he tell you what for?"

"No. He just asked me to tell you he's looking for you," Mishima shook his head. Before she could ask anything else, he left.

"I should go," Shiho sighed as she got up and patted down her skirt.

Akira nodded.

"Bye Shiho," Ann smiled.

There was a length of silence as they both watched their friend's disappearing back.

Akira couldn't help but think there was a tension in the air, and it wasn't the type of tension where a friend leaves you with someone you don't know. He'd like to think he and Ann knew each other well enough at this point to be friendly without Shiho in between them. 

No, this tension was more along the lines of _something's wrong_ but he couldn't understand _what_ it was exactly.

"Did you notice," Ann started, "that Shiho's been getting injured lately? She never used to wear that leg brace, and she never wore bandages either."

Akira thought back to the first day he talked to Shiho. It was barely a week after school started, but that was when she first wore the black brace. She was limping that day.

"She's on the volleyball team, but volleyball shouldn't be so intense, right?" Ann frowned. She started curling her hair with her finger, a bad habit that showed when she was nervous or anxious. "I don't know much about sports, so I can't exactly say anything. If I do, Shiho just brushes it off like it's nothing. Like it's normal. But that's how she is. I'm worried about her, Akira."

There was nothing he could say to Ann to make her feel better.

He was worried about Shiho too.

.

.

.

Akira wasn't too familiar with this feeling, but he knew he had to do something about it. Later that day, when they were cleaning the classrooms, Akira took action.

"You want to come watch me practice?" Shiho asked, her eyes wide in surprise, and not particularly the good kind.

Akira noted how she seemed almost panicked.

"If I may?" Akira hummed, backing off slightly. "I have nothing to do that day, and Ann has another photoshoot, but it's just a small one by the underground mall. I thought I could be your cheerleader," he deadpanned the last statement.

It shocks a laugh out of Shiho, and succeeds in lightening the mood.

"I appreciate it, but it's okay. If you come, I'll be too focused on your playful banter that I wouldn't be able to practice well," Shiho shook her head playfully. "If you're really that lonely though, I'll try to see if I can get out of practice early."

She was trying to hide the fact that she doesn't want him at the practice session.

Akira decided to play along.

"You can do that?"

"Well, Kamoshida-sensei gives us a list of workouts for us to do, and once we're finished, we can go home. Most of the time, he's too busy with the people lagging behind to worry about us, and I'm in the starting line-up for the volleyball team. Next week, he said he's going to focus on us more, but for now, he's just worried about the team on the benches. I can handle it," she explains, almost proudly.

"What are some of the exercises?" Akira asked lightly.

He saw Shiho grasp the broom tighter than necessarily. Her knuckles were close to turning white.

"Why the sudden interest?" Shiho countered, almost defensively. Almost.

Akira had to take a second to think, but he was quick to respond.

"Just curious. I used to do sports," he fibbed masterfully. "You can't deny the fact that even you sometimes space off when Ann starts talking about cake and clothes, and I can't bore you about my homework. I thought sports would be a safe topic."

"Hmm...okay," she shook her head, but the smile on her face was unmistakeable. "Well, we usually do suicide runs up and down the stairs for stamina and leg strength. When our legs start to cramp up, we stretch them a bit and then start working on upper body strength. Oh, we stretch before we do the suicide runs too, it just feels nicer to stretch afterwards as well."

They worked in tandem cleaning the room as she continued.

"After that, we pair up, and...well, there's a lot of names of exercises I don't bother to remember. Of course, there's the usual exercises too, like jumping jacks, push-ups, sit-ups, butterfly stretches, and all that. By the end of the day, I'm usually too exhausted to move! But...after a few minutes rest and some water, I feel even more energized than before."

"That sounds like a lot though," Akira frowned.

"I've been at it for a while, so it's routine for me. What about you? What sport did you used to play?" Shiho asked expectantly. After such a longwinded explaination on her part, she expected him to reciprocate with an answer of his own.

She wasn't expecting the answer he gave though.

"Ping pong."

"Snrk!"

She quickly turned her face away from him.

"What?" Akira mock frowned.

"P-p-ping pong...haah," Shiho rasped, her shoulders shaking.

Akira ducked around Shiho to see her face. It was flushed red, eyes crinkled in unrestrained mirth as she used her hands to keep laughs from coming out.

Little giggles were coming out.

He thinks he knows why she's laughing, and is quick to retaliate.

"Ping pong IS a sport," he said, voice slightly offended, which was not helping her with calming down at all.

"Is not! I swear you can get away with not doing a push-up and still be good at ping pong," Shiho shot back, chuckles still escaping her.

"Take that back!" Akira huffed.

"Anyways, are you yanking my chain? Did you really play ping pong competitively?"

"I can play it, but it was just a passing thing. I played whatever sport my physical education class was teaching at the time," Akira shrugged. "Shujin's different. Physical education class is just...exercise. No sports."

"Yeah...it's a bit dull unless you join an actual sports club. Kamoshida-sensei doesn't want to waste time on anyone who isn't serious," Shiho sighed.

Akira was glad to note it was more of a recovery breath from laughing so hard rather than a sad sigh.

"Oh! We're out of trash bags," Shiho frowned.

"I'll go get more. It's in the closet downstairs, right?" Akira hummed.

"Yeah, the one door next to the school store."

"Alright, I'll be back soon."

.

.

.

Shiho watched Akira leave the classroom. The door was left open, and she could hear his footsteps go down the stairs. She held her breath for a few more seconds, and when he didn't come back in, she let out a relieved sigh.

Tugging the sleeve of her shirt down slightly, she hoped he hadn't noticed the bruise around her wrist. A bruise right there really wouldn't be suspicious, and she could easily brush it off as hitting the volleyball wrong.

If only it wasn't in the shape of a hand.

Akira was not only observant, he was sharp. She had no doubt that on that first day when he initiated a conversation, it was because he noticed she sprained her knee. It was a light injury, but an injury that could potentially kick her off the starting line-up. 

Ann was always asking about how volleyball was, but when Shiho started talking about the exercises and everything, her blonde friend would start spacing out, as Akira pointed out. If she didn't space out, she would start getting confused, and a confused conversation with Ann was just terribly frustrating.

Talking about volleyball with Akira was different.

She knew he was hanging onto her every word, hypersensitive to anything that she could imply would be wrong. She appreciated the worry he seemed to show her, but she really didn't need him going against Kamoshida.

Not with his situation and all.

"So this is where you've been."

She looked up and gasped, backing away from the door in fear.

.

.

.

Akira climbed the stairs with the roll of trash bags in his hands. He only needed a few, but the lady insisted on him taking the whole roll with him. He wasn't sure if it was because she didn't want him running multiple trips, or if she didn't want to be disturbed, but he supposed it was fine either way.

"Stop it, please!"

He jolted, hearing familiar words with an even more familiar voice.

"You're hurting me!"

He ran, dropping the trashbags, his footsteps thumping heavily—

"AHH!"

He fumbled with his phone, turning on the camera—

"Kamoshida-sensei please don't do this!"

"Shut up you bitch!"

The red light blinked, and it started recording faster than Akira could process, just in time to capture a male voice.

The camera screen slid into the doorway, and Akira froze. A man—Kamoshida, his mind provided—was cornering Shiho against the window, his large frame covering her face from the shot. 

"Mmmh! Nnno! Let, GO!"

Three seconds, enough to be damning evidence, but Akira couldn't move. What could he do? Pull the him away? Touching the man would give the man another reason to claim validity for Akira's criminal record. He would get into more trouble...

_So you're just going to leave her?_

No, of course not! But his throat felt dry...he couldn't speak.

_What do you think will happen if you don't do anything?_

He could feel sweat drip down the side of his face. The hairs on the back of his neck started standing up. He thought back to that night. What would happen to the woman if he hadn't interfered?

_Was your previous decision...a mistake?_

No, it wasn't. He would do it again and again, even if it meant going to jail. The thought of anyone suffering like that twisted his stomach into knots. He'll never be able to live it down.

_Then act. You know what to do._

Did he?

"AH!"

Shiho shrieked when the man slapped her across the face.

"STEP AWAY FROM HER!" he shouted.

When the man turned around, rage in his eyes, and Akira swallowed. The camera continued to record.

"Oh...you're that one delinquent, aren't you? The one with the criminal record..." the man started gently, almost softly. The large, malicious grin on his face contrasted strongly with his voice. "Playing hero after facing the court...how admirable."

"I'm not a hero. You're just depraved," Akira riposted with bravado he wasn't feeling.

"Depraved huh? Well, what are you going to do, _boy_?"

"I'm recording you. What do you think I'll do?" Akira answered calmly.

"Do you know who I am?" the man growled lowly.

"Should I?"

They stared at each other, waiting for either one to make the first move.

The clock ticked.

"ERARGH!"

The man darted forward, and Akira slammed the classroom door shut. He used so much force that the door bounced back open, but not before the man slammed into it too.

Akira knew that the man would leave Shiho alone and instead chase after him because of the camera recording. He ran for the stairs without looking back twice, because he swore if he did, the man would be right behind him. He jumped down the first flight of steps, wincing as his ankles twinged upon impact, and used his hands to steady himself.

He slid down the banister for the second flight of stairs, and ran for the courtyard. At this point, he didn't know where he could go. His brain was running miles per minute, trying to find a way out of this situation.

What could he do?

What could he DO?!

At this point, there was nowhere to hide. He could go into another building, but he would just be trapped, forced to hide.

He heard heavy thumping steps thundering down the stairs. 

It was over if Kamoshida found him and cornered him.

Or was it?

...it was only over if Kamoshida got his hands on the recording. It didn't matter if Akira got captured. Only the recording needed to stay intact.

He headed to the next building, Kamoshida stomping up behind him.

He only needed to hide his phone.

.

.

.

"I've got you now, you piece of shit!" Kamoshida roared, tackling Akira down.

The man's hand immediately went for Akira's throat, thick fingers stabbing the side of his neck mercilessly. He choked.

"I really don't like that look in your eye..." Kamoshida grinned as if it was his early birthday present. His other hand curled into a fist, and slammed into Akira's face, snapping it to the side.

"Ha...ha..."

"What are you laughing about you brat?" Kamoshida sneered down at him.

"What are you...planning to do?" Akira gasped out when the hand tightened like an unwelcome collar. "I hid...the recording. Anyone could find it...now."

Kamoshida seemed to stare dumbly down at him, but the hand was unrelenting.

"What would people think...if they found out that the teacher took advantage of the criminal record student's reputation and killed him?" Akira quickly choked out. "No one cares about me or trusts me...but when they learn you're the killer..."

The hand pressed down harder. Black spots appeared in the side of his vision.

"And then they found his phone...with a recording of that teacher sexually assaulting another student, and then...chasing the one who was recording it?"

The words were a gamble, a play on the man's fear. Anyone who was truly committing a crime would be afraid of the evidence Akira managed to snatch, and if this man was a teacher, if this man really had any shred of humanity in him left, he should be very, very afraid.

"Where the fuck is the phone," Kamoshida demanded, voice deadly quiet. His pupils were shrunken, and if there was any time to feel afraid for his own life, Akira decided this was it.

It was too late for him to submit though. He would rebel against this injustice.

"Do you really think I'll tell you?" Akira managed a small, victorious grin. "Just...leave us alone, and I won't post that video all over social media."

"Blackmailing a teacher? How utterly criminal of you," Kamoshida growled.

"Not as criminal as you, scumbag," Akira spit onto his face.

Utter resentment and outrage swallowed Kamoshida's expression, and the curled fist raised higher—

Akira thought, if there's a god and he died here, he hoped someone would find his phone under the window he passed by. It would be hidden by bushes, but it was a very frequented area. He wasn't bluffing when he said _anyone could find it_ —

Everything went black.

.

.

.

When Akira came to, he was dazed. His glasses were still askew on his face, and even when he fixed it, his vision was in doubles.

He might've sat there for a few minutes, trying to regain his bearings before remembering Shiho.

Oh god he hoped he didn't make Kamoshida angry enough to go back to her.

With as much speed as his dizziness could muster, he made his way back to 2-D. The door was slightly ajar, the lock on its edge dented with the force of the dispute. He could hear crying inside the room, but the minute he stepped through the door, all was quiet.

The broom and trash were spilled over on the floor, and shreds of white cloth laid on top of it. Some desks were out of place, and some chairs fell to the floor on their sides.

Akira looked around, and couldn't see Shiho.

_Sniffle._

He approached the closet in the back of the classroom, and could hear uneven, gasping breaths.

"Shiho?"

Quiet.

"Shiho, it's me. Akira..."

The door swung open, banging against the wall with a loud metallic thunk, and Shiho lunged for him.

The force of her jump surprised him and landed him on his back, and he winced as his body forced more desks out of order. He was thankful no chairs fell on him, but the abuse his body went through just wasn't fair.

He repressed a groan when Shiho's arms wrapped around him; it was a shaky and tight grasp, but she might as well be clinging to her life. Her sobs were muffled into his chest, and his heart broke just a little. How much was she holding inside?

Placing his own arm around her, he rubbed her back.

"It's okay. I'm here...Kamoshida's gone. You're okay," he whispered into her ear soothingly. His words were barely more than a rasp, and his throat ached like he swallowed a box of nails, but Akira continued anyway.

They stayed like that for a while.

The short clockhand hit six, but the moment might as well have been timeless.

As she calmed down, he noted how her shirt was ripped, showing bruises of all colors. Brown and purple and splotchy green, a few in the shape of handprints—

"I-I'm sorry," she hiccupped, sitting up and rubbing away her tears. "I'm so sorry! You shouldn't have been involved in this mess and, and—!"

"It's okay," Akira reaffirmed. "You're my friend Shiho. Let me protect you."

"Hah," Shiho shook her head, bitter smile on her face. "It's no use. He's everywhere. All the teachers think the best of him. All the parents think the best of him too. And you...you're just a no-good lawbreaker in their eyes. You can't win." And then in a smaller voice, she added, "I can't win."

_I did win_ , Akira wanted to say, but her hands went to the side of his face. Gentle fingers pressed down, and he yelped.

"How hard did he hit you?" she wondered, before shaking her head. "Come on. I know the nurses leave their office open for us sports members. I'll help fix you up."

They cleaned up the last of the trash and rearranged the desks in record speed—or as fast as Akira could move, anyway—before grabbing their bags and heading to the nurse's office. Like Shiho said, the door was unlocked, and the lights were on. The nurse was nowhere to be seen though.

"The nurse usually leaves at 4, but sports activities sometimes drag on to 6. The office is always unlocked because no one stays late enough to lock it," Shiho answered the unasked question to fill in the unwanted silence.

She directs Akira to sit on one of the beds, and rummages the closets for bruise cream and some adhesive patches.

"Take off your shirt please," she quietly demands. "I know that one on your face isn't the only one."

He complied, and didn't meet her eyes. Was it shame or just the uncomfortable feeling that he was half-naked that made him avert his face? When he looked at her face, he wished he hadn't.

Unadulterated horror covered her face.

"What did he do to you?"

She went into her bag brought up a pocket mirror to show the **black print** that circled around his neck. His body was fine, as far as he could tell, save for some bruises on his back. He had known, and expected even, for his neck to take the worst damage. He didn't know exactly how bad it was...

He brought his fingers up to touch it, and immediately desisted.

"I'm so sorry Akira...so sorry..."

She rubbed the bruise cream onto his face first, fingers always lightly glancing his skin, and he kept a strong facade. When she started on the one on his neck, he steeled himself.

Her eyes grew duller and duller with each touch he shied away from, so he bit his lip and endured.

His Adam's apple bobbed uncomfortably when she dabbed the cream. He endured.

The pulse of his neck throbbed each time she pressed down. He endured.

When it was finally all wrapped up, he put his turtleneck uniform back on. Some bandages peaked out from the top of his shirt, but white blended with white. He was glad that Sakura-san wouldn't see it when he got back.

Faintly, he wondered if Kamoshida intended for the injuries to appear superficial—like the one on his face—or easily concealable like the one on his neck.

He glanced at Shiho, who was now quiet. Her face betrayed no emotion. In a way, she was almost lifeless.

He hated that defeated expression though.

"Tell me," Akira started, but had to swallow down a cough. "Tell me about volleyball."

Shiho looked at him indescribably, but she did.

She told him _all_ about _volleyball._


	4. It's Not That Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your first try riding a bike will no doubt end in a scraped knee. That doesn't mean you have to quit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly you guys are all amazing. Honestly. I recieved so much love in the comments, I feel like I'm the top of the world. I used to be one of those people who never finished their content, but everyday you guys make it easier and easier for me to just DO IT AHHH. You all give me life when you comment and I'm not ashamed enough to NOT admit I'm an attention whore XD.
> 
> I have to admit, I've written and re-written my work (not grammatically but story-wise) so many times that the events seem like old news to me. Hearing all of you so enthusiastic for character development and everything—it gives me LIFE. Thank you.
> 
> P.S. I accidentally posted the draft earlier today (or yesterday depending on the time zones) and hhhh much apologies for getting your hopes all up. You guys wouldn't believe how hard my heart was pounding as I was desperately trying to delete the draft and hoping you guys didn't see it haha.

The minute Akira retrieved his phone, the two of them left the school grounds as fast as they could and retreated to somewhere safer. Through Big Bang Burgers' windows, they could see the sky turn to an ashy blue, and the first stars winked into existence. The horizon was still a brilliant orange, but it wouldn't be for long.

"How long has this been going on?" Akira started the conversation, voice low and calm. Food was ordered and placed in front of them, though neither parties had much appetite. 

"He was never so aggressive. Today was the first time..." Shiho shivered in her red jumper. She had discarded the shredded white uniform, but the jacket was much thinner. Akira couldn't tell if she shivered from the cold, or from the memories. "Thank you for being there today, Akira. If you hadn't...I don't know what I would've done. What I _could've_ done."

Shiho brought her hand up to her face slowly as if to hide her expression. Fingers clasped over her mouth like a medical cover, but Akira had already seen it all in the furrow of her brows. Confusion. Shock. Distress. Fear.

Then, it all spilled over into a giant mess.

"Everything went wrong the first day I stepped into Shujin. I used to have good grades, you know? All of a sudden, out of nowhere, Kamoshida-sensei offered me a spot on the volleyball team, and my studies went out the window. I was more focused on getting enough reps to make it into the starting line-up than about math or history. Volleyball became the be all end all of my life. My mother would tell me to study. All the time. During finals, I realized she was right. I couldn't neglect everything else because of volleyball...but then Kamoshida-sensei realized I was falling behind in sports, and came for a house visit; told my mother not to worry. That I was going to make it to professional volleyball. I didn't need to focus on my studies anymore. Not even when I wanted to," Shiho grounded out.

Her knuckles grew white and her voice grew softer.

"I told him that I wanted to balance both sports and my studies. Do you know what he said to me?" she asked rhetorically, her visage an icy blank mask. "He told me, 'girls like you should just do as you're told.' He told me, 'you won't make it out there without me.' Everyday he walks around the school like some king looking down on his lowly subjects, lording his superiority over everyone. And I can't do a single thing about it."

Akira didn't know what to say.

What could he say, in the face of this?

Shiho took a shuddering breath, like a flower in the throes of unraveling.

"At first, I was okay with it. Kamoshida-sensei promised Shujin that we would be the best female volleyball team to ever reach the Nationals. We were going to _win_ and make our lives worth something, glorious even," Shiho laughed. "As it turns out, he was just using us. He was just using me."

"Using...you?" Akira frowned.

"Ann and I..." Shiho's shoulders slumped. Her anger escaped her all at once. "Ann is my best friend. When I was in cram school, she was there supporting me. When she went to go be a model, I was her cheerleader. We were like a dynamic duo back in middle school. Kamoshida-sensei knew that. He invited me onto the volleyball team solely because of Ann. It's funny, you know? I never liked volleyball...but when an Olympic medalist says you have potential, who wouldn't be an idiot and latch onto it like it was their brightest future? I know I was that idiot."

Her voice cracked at the end. Shiho had to stop for a minute to gather her composure.

The sky outside was dark as coal now. Even the stars didn't show their faces.

Akira waited patiently.

"I was pretty oblivious for the better part of last year, or maybe I was willfully blind to it, but once the rumors about Ann and Kamoshida-sensei involved _compensated dating_ , I couldn't ignore it anymore. I was worried about my best friend, worried that the rumors were true. I stopped inviting her to my practice matches and..." Shiho sighed. "And I waited. To confirm my suspicions. I was right. Kamoshida-sensei always harassed Ann during practice, and when she wasn't there, he took it out on the team. On me. Our training became just as brutal as the boys'. He'd give us bruises where no one could look, work us down to the bone, and denied us water breaks. It was horrible. But even so, I didn't want Ann to be harassed anymore."

"Is that why you didn't want me to come?" Akira questioned gently.

"Part of the reason. I knew Ann had something to do with you want to come see my practice matches. She may think she's cunning but I can see through her pretty well," Shiho chuckled, this time more warmly. "I...also didn't want to involve you in our mess. With your situation, our problem would only make your life worse...but I guess it's too late now. Kamoshida-sensei will probably do his best to make your year as miserable as possible."

"I can take it," Akira reassured her.

"Don't be all macho-man on me, Mr. Ping Pong player," Shiho gave him an amused smile. "I bet I can win an arm-wrestling match against you."

They shared a subdued laugh before staying quiet together, each taking a sip of their drinks. Akira waited for Shiho until she was ready to speak again.

And speak she did.

"So now you know. My volleyball coach says I'm good as long as he gets to sexually harass my best friend," Shiho snorted. "And I guess, she rejected him a few times too many, and here we are."

Akira frowned. "You could easily quit the volleyball team and just avoid Kamoshida...both you and Ann could avoid him."

"If it could be that easy," Shiho grimaced, her eyes starting to tear up. "Volleyball's all I have left."

"You're in second year, just like Ann. Just like me. There's plenty of other doors open for you," Akira supplied.

"I know, I know," Shiho exhaled. "But I really don't want to open those doors. Taking the time to figure out my future would mean putting volleyball on the back burner. I know I told you I never really liked volleyball...but over the last year, I've really started getting...attached. The sound of the ball, the bounce and rhythm of the game, the joy of having scored points for your team...it's free and exhilarating. I don't want to give that up!"

Her passionate words caused her to clench her fist over her heart, as if it would thunder out any moment. She looked up hesitantly to meet Akira's gaze.

"Do you...think I'm selfish?" she whispered.

"What?"

"Do you think that I'm selfish, for wanting to keep something that endangers both Ann and I?"

Akira studied her posture. She was defeated, but she still had the will to _want_. He decided to answer honestly.

"It's kind of selfish. But I also think you're admirable," Akira replied.

It didn't make Shiho upset, but it didn't make her feel any better either.

"That's kind of you to say, I suppose," Shiho murmured. "But matter of fact is, I'm only dragging Ann down with me."

"I could put an end to this, you know," Akira interjected. "I recorded everything earlier. Even if the school ignores it, even if the teachers and parents ignore it, the police will have to take action."

"H-huh...? You really recorded it?" she queried, eyes wide in slight shock.

Akira nodded.

It may have been some restless nights thinking back to that day when he got arrested but he always wondered, what could've gone differently so that he wouldn't be falsely accused? Only idiots suffered the same fate, and Akira Kurusu was not an idiot.

The answer was cold, hard evidence, and nothing spoke truer than a camera recording.

"I...I mean..." Shiho stuttered and looked away from Akira. She played with her jacket sleeves and seemed to be abundant in nervous energy. "It's great and all but..."

"Yes?" Akira encouraged.

**"Please don't show anyone that recording."**

.

.

.

Akira supposed he had full appreciation for what people called "between a rock and a hard place" now.

At first, he had been slightly angry—not at Shiho, but on Shiho's behalf—that even after everything, they were just going to let Kamoshida do whatever he pleased. But Shiho raised good points on why they couldn't simply just take this to the police station.

The recording might have been a good bargaining chip and a leg up over Kamoshida, but it wasn't enough. That video would at most be evidence for just _one_ of his many instances of acts unbefitting a teacher, and may not even warrant enough punishment for a full sentence. In fact, his Olympic status may very well save him from the wrath of the court.

Shiho's second point was that Akira himself could get in more trouble. Shujin Academy was a private institution. Its code of conduct for students were very clear. Whatever happens in a lesson, stayed in a lesson. With how the school booklet phrased it, lesson might very well be replaced with classroom, and none would be the wiser. The controversy of whether it was illegal or not for a student to record a teacher during a lesson was nigh, and with Akira's probation, the matter would only get out of control.

Still, Akira was very tempted to go along with his plan and just expose the scumbag.

It was Shiho's final point that convinced him not to.

_"That recording may not have my face, but people will recognize me in it. My voice...my leg brace...my pink scrunchie...some people might not see, but people who know me will...and not everyone who knows me is a friend. Rumors will start to spread. I'll be labeled...and I don't think I can live with that."_

So Akira promised that he wouldn't do anything stupid. He wouldn't go challenging Kamoshida, and he wouldn't release the recording.

He saved it onto his phone, walked Shiho to the station, and headed home to Leblanc with the last train.

Angry clouds started to gather and rolled with thunder, symbolic of his mood.

When he reached the old cafe, the door was locked. The lights were off, and there were no signs of human life on the backstreets.

Not a moment too soon, the first raindrop fell.

Akira took a seat at the steps of the door and set his bag beside himself, glad that the cafe could shield him from the oncoming storm, if only a bit. The winds would most likely pick up later on throughout the night, but for now, Akira was content as he leaned against the glass door and watched the water slide down the awning, cascading into a miniature waterfall.

He didn't regret the fact that he spent more time with Shiho, and he didn't regret having offered to walk her to her station train. She needed his companionship, and he would give it, if only to repay that girl in the classroom that didn't judge him based on his reputation. It was the least he could do.

_Mew._

Breaking out of his thoughts, he came face to face with a cat.

Matted black and white fur blurred into his focus, and blue, blue eyes looked up at him.

He stared back, not quite sure what to do.

The cat didn't have an owner, if the collarless neck was any indication, but it didn't look like a stray, and it didn't look like it was wild.

It was quite calm and subdued as it yawned and showed its sharp canines.

Akira moved his bag to his lap and gave the cat a small space to sit on the steps too.

Seamlessly—as if the creature knew Akira's well-meaning offer—the cat shook off excess water from its fur coat, and plopped down on the other side of the welcome mat. Without further ado, it started to groom itself.

After a few seconds, Akira stopped watching the cat, and observed the downpour instead.

He wouldn't mind falling asleep now.

Sure, it was cold, and it would get colder as the night progressed, but Akira was entranced with the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain.

When the cat finished, it too, watched the sky.

Boy and feline were enraptured as the rain fell.

In inaudible amity, they watched as mother nature washed the colors of the world down the drain of the night.


	5. A Hospital Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has hurts that they hide. Show me yours please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter! Is anyone bothered by the inconsistent length of the chapters? And who wants to count how many times Akira blacks out? 
> 
> Anyways, I've been trying to keep my writing in past tense. Re-reading everything is a pain though. //tears//

First impressions went a long way, and Akira Kurusu failed spectacularly.

Sojiro was a practical man. When spoken to, he gave answers. When he spoke, he expected replies. A conversation required two participants, willing or not, and one should indulge. Akira Kurusu didn't seem to understand that, and what little response he did give ended up as fragments of sentences, broken up and incomplete.

The kid also seemed a bit dazed, asking about his probation and Shujin as if he wasn't already informed. (Well, less asking and more confused spluttering really.)

Maybe the kid was just adapting. Sojiro gave him the benefit of doubt. Acquiring a criminal record and then thrust from your quiet childhood home into the hustle bustle of a big city couldn't have been easy.

Except the second impression the kid gave wasn't all that great either.

On the first day of school, he came back way later than simply "getting lost," and with a bruise no less.

What was Sojiro supposed to think? That the kid _wasn't_ up to some silly business? That he walked home by foot or something? Hah. Hilarious.

Sojiro threatened the kid—nothing harmful, but punishing enough—that he would lock him out if he didn't get his act together.

The kid came back decently early every day after that.

Sojiro didn't expect to have to actually carry out his threat.

It was last night, late at 10 that Sojiro locked a vacant Leblanc and gave up on the kid. He could be dead in a ditch somewhere, throwing away his last chance at a decent life in Shinjuku for all Sojiro cared—

And then Sojiro found him asleep on the doorstep of Leblanc at the crack of dawn.

The first thing Sojiro noticed was the cat.

Upon seeing Sojiro, the cat skittered out of the kid's arms—where the kid made a sheltering cocoon out of his school blazer—and darted down the street. Sojiro was too stunned to really do anything about it.

The next thing he noticed was that the kid must've sat through the storm. He looked still, clothes soaked, skin pale, cheeks flushed—

"Really," Sojiro huffed, placing a hand on Akira's forehead. Thankfully it wasn't hot, but it was too cold to be healthy. If his heart had pounded a bit faster from panic, he sure didn't show it. "Hey, wake up."

He shook the kid's shoulder, and was rewarded with a light groan.

"Good mornin' sleepyhead," Sojiro greeted. The kid raised his head, or at least tried to.

"Uhn...m-morning," the kid winced. His hand immediately went to go rub the back of his neck, but just shy of contact, the kid put his hand back down and rolled his shoulder gingerly instead.

Sojiro eyed him for a moment, and couldn't help but think that the kid's voice sounded a bit off. He brushed it off though.

"Crick in the neck huh? Come on, let's get you inside."

.

.

.

Akira wondered if he had enough money to go to the pharmacy and buy some pain killers. His throat hurt inside and out, and sleeping in a sitting position overnight didn't help at all.

The minute Sakura-san opened the doors to the cafe, the welcoming smell of coffee relaxed Akira. His shoulders released tension he didn't even know was there, and it made his neck ache, not in a good way, but not in a bad way either. He spent a few seconds just basking in the soothing scents and the warm—if slightly dusty—air.

"Well, go on upstairs and clean yourself up. You have an hour or so before you go to school," Sakura-san said as he busied himself in the kitchen. Akira nodded.

He changed out of his clothes, dumping all the wet articles into a hamper with more than a little difficulty. The bandages around his neck weren't wet, but they weren't comfortable either, so he decided to change those as well. He didn't have a mirror, so he couldn't see the wounds. Instead, he pressed his fingers down, and judged where the discoloration of his throat may be by touch. It was a long and painful time of trial and error.

It was a while before he brought himself downstairs, and he tugged the turtleneck uniform just a bit higher than usual.

"Going to go already?" Sakura-san asked, but Akira knew the man wasn't expecting an answer. "Have a seat. You have some time before the train gets here. I made you some curry."

"Curry?" Akira repeated, eyes wide in surprise.

"Breakfast," Sakura-san nodded. "You were out there the whole night...this will warm you right up. Oh, and also..."

Sakura-san slid a piece of paper over the counter.

A phone number.

"If you ever have an emergency, that's my contact," Sakura-san explained with an unreadable expression on his face. "I'm not encouraging you to stay out late. In fact, I'll lock you out again if you're not back by ten. I don't know what you're always doing out so late—maybe it's shit luck, maybe it's just funky Tokyo shennanigans, but whatever it is, I'm still your guardian. I'm responsible for you, got that?"

Akira touched the paper and watched it crinkle underneath his touch. He nodded.

As Sakura-san went back to the kitchen, Akira took a seat at the bar counter. He entered the number into his phone, and typed in _Sakura-san_ in the name box before pocketing both the paper and his phone.

Not a second later, a steaming plate was placed in front of him; its aromatic fumes fogged up his glasses. The plate was followed with a cup on a saucer. Both curry and coffee had an appealing, simple presentation. Akira wasn't sure what to make of the combination of both though.

He looked at Sakura-san dubiously.

"Don't give me that face. They go together," Sakura-san defended. "Don't knock it till you try it."

So Akira tried it.

The spice of the curry burned as it went down. He felt his entire body shiver as it did. Maybe it was too hot and he didn't blow the steam away enough, or maybe it was his abused throat that couldn't take the intensity.

Or maybe it was the beginning sensation of oncoming tears.

Akira brought a hand to his mouth and held in a cough.

"Is it too spicy for you? I can add more rice..." Sakura-san frowned. Akira quickly shook his head.

"N-no. It's perfect."

After he was charged with assault, he made his own food and ate dinner alone. After coming to Tokyo, there was never any time or resource of a home cooked meal.

It was just...a long time since anyone's cooked for him too.

He was glad when Sakura-san turned away, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like _"weird kid"_.

His foggy glasses hid away the wetness behind his eyes.

.

.

.

The ride on the train was bumpy like always, but it felt more disorienting than usual. Akira was glad he was able to grab a seat because he wasn't sure he would've been able to stand up and brace against the doors like always. At least, not without bumping into a few people and offending them with the slightest touches.

By the time he reached Shujin, he was already exhausted. Still, he marched on.

Another strike of good luck hit him when he realized Kamoshida wasn't standing at the gate, greeting every student that came in. Instead, it was Ushimaru-sensei, arms crossed over his chest as if he disapproved of every student that walked in. Perhaps he did.

Akira hoped that his luck would go further and Ushimaru would just let him pass without a word, but lady fortune wasn't that generous.

"Kurusu! You look like hell warmed over. You stay up late playing video games or something?"

"No sir."

"Well, if I catch you sleeping in class today, it'll be detention! So pay attention!"

"Of course."

Ten minutes later, he was in his homeroom as Kawakami-sensei came into the class.

"Alright, let's see," Kawakami muttered the last bit to herself. Her eyes roamed the class, and settled to the empty seat in front of Akira. "Ah, that's right. Takamaki-san was admitted into the hospital yesterday."

The class was put into an uproar.

Akira froze. A soft ringing echoed in his ears, and a hot rock of dread settled in his stomach. He was ready to bolt to the hospital to see if Ann was okay.

He wanted to text her, but he didn't have her contact info yet.

In fact, he didn't even have Shiho's number. He decided to ask for it soon.

He wondered what happened to Ann. He wondered if Shiho knew. He waited for Kawakami to explain, it it didn't seem like she knew all the details.

"Settle down!" Kawakami growled. Her voice was barely above the volume of the room, but it silenced the rowdy students nonetheless. "It's not anything serious, and you shouldn't go spreading rumors. Lord knows that girl has enough problems. And lord knows _I_ have enough problems before dealing with all of you spreading lies again."

The whole room was quiet. Chastised.

Akira wondered if he was just imagining things when Kawakami shot him a look.

"Well," Kawakami sighed. "I believe there's a volleyball rally in a few days. Takamaki-san would most likely still be able to attend...as far as I know, it's nothing too serious."

And that was how homeroom continued. Once knowing Ann was in the hospital though, Akira couldn't really keep paying attention. His mind kept wandering.

It was a relief when the day was over, and Shiho came for her daily clean-up duties. She looked a little less troubled than any of the previous days, the crease between her eyebrows lessened.

Instead, it was Akira who had a darkened mien.

"Hmm? Akira? Is something wrong?" she asked in greeting.

"Ann's in the hospital," he revealed, watching as Shiho's expression nearly mirror his. Suddenly, her shoulders seemed to carry just a bit more weight. "Kawakami-sensei didn't really say much, only that it wasn't anything big. I was thinking maybe we should visit her today."

"You're right," Shiho agreed immediately. "Well, there's not too much of a mess. Let's make haste."

.

.

.

Shiho was usually very dilligent in her duties.

Without going into too much detail, one could call Shiho single-minded when she tried to accomplish a task. She wasn't a genius in anything but volleyball—and even then she was too humble to accept praise for her skills—so she made sure to complete her goals with frightening focus.

One could even call it tunnel vision.

Today however, she noticed that Akira's movements appeared sluggish. While he flipped the chairs with the same meticulous silence—if a bit faster so they could visit Ann—his arms seemed almost clumsy in the way they moved.

She put it in the back of her thoughts, thinking maybe Akira was just more bothered by Ann's hospitalization than he showed. He did seem like the type of person to hide his worry. Either that, or her mind was just playing tricks on her with a faulty observation.

As they rode the train to the local hospital, she knew it wasn't.

Akira was having a hard time standing up, and each time the subway train turned around a bend—which wasn't a lot, but enough times for her to see it—he stumbled. One particular turn was so harsh he nearly fell over, and Shiho had to help steady him.

"Akira? Are you okay?" she had asked then.

He nodded wordlessly, but upon seeing her worry, he gave her a slight smile. "I'm fine."

She almost believed him.

Under the train's fluorescent lights, his face seemed paler than ever. Only two spots on his cheeks were a rosy red, but the color splashed almost unnaturally on his sickly pallor.

By the time they reached the hospital, Shiho's nerves were frazzled.

"Hello, how may I help you?" the receptionist asked.

"We're visiting—"

"A doctor's check-up please," Shiho interrupted Akira in a rare, bold move. The receptionist raised an eyebrow, but handed over a clipboard.

"Alright, I'll check you in. Fill in this application also please."

Shiho took it with a thankful nod, and pulled Akira to the waiting room. If she wasn't so worried, she would've laughed at how confused Akira looked.

"Are you feeling okay Shiho?" Akira asked.

"I should be asking you that," Shiho replied almost curtly. It was almost reminiscent to their first meeting.

"But I'm fine," Akira frowned. "We need to visit Ann, don't we?"

Shiho didn't know if he was just faking for the sake of appearances or if he really thought he was okay. Either way, he wasn't okay and she was going to get him check out if it was the last thing she did today.

"Ann can wait. She's already been seen to by the hospital staff, if her overnight stay has anything to say about that. You on the other hand..." she looked him over with a critical eye. "Need immediate attention."

Akira was about ready to protest, but Shiho tacked on:

"You look like you slept outside in yesterday's storm."

Akira closed his mouth with a sheepish smile, and Shiho pursed her lips. She didn't think she wanted to ask.

When the receptionist called them in and the doctor examined Akira with the usual methods—stethoscope, _look over here please_ , and _say 'ahh'_ —Shiho stood to the side and resisted the nervous urge to bite her nails.

"Mild hypothermia..." the doctor murmured to himself as he took Akira's temperature. "And a fever. The only reason you haven't collapsed yet is because you probably had a good breakfast and maybe a better constitution. You say he wasn't stable on the train?"

"Yeah. I had to steady him a few times," Shiho answered.

"Well, he's probably sensitive to motion. Dizziness, typical symptom. I'd suggest against taking the train again and maybe have someone drive him home. I'd also say you have a bit of sleep deprivation, but that's easily fixable. I'll prescribe some sleeping pills."

"Will he be able to go to school tomorrow?" Shiho inquired.

"If he rests properly. It's early bed time for you tonight, young man," the doctor joked. Akira chuckled nervously. "Drink lots of fluids, preferably warm. Eat a good dinner tonight, get lots of rest, and maybe try not to sleep in a thunderstorm again."

"I'll make sure of it," Shiho nodded. Akira thought maybe her determined expression was just a bit scary. A bit. "By the way, do you have anything for bruises?"

"Bruises? Where?" the doctor queried, turning to Shiho.

Shiho met Akira's eyes with hesitance. "Uhmm...well..."

Akira shook his head. It would heal on its own.

"My friend and I are on the sports team. We sometimes get hit by the ball and they're a pain to deal with," Shiho shrugged.

"Well, I could prescribe you some bruise cream, but you could get that from your nurse's office. Ice packs always help too," the doctor offered.

"I'll keep that in mind," Akira nodded along.

"Well, that's it. Here are some painkillers for now. Take them if you're dizzy again on the train, and they'll tide you over for a few hours. I suppose I'll also write you a note, in case you're not feeling up to attend school tomorrow."

"Thank you doctor."

.

.

.

"We can visit Ann now," Shiho sighed.

"Sorry about the detour."

"Don't apologize for that. I just wanted to make sure you were okay," she frowned. "And you heard the doctor. No train. Do you have anyone who can drive you home?"

Akira thought back to the number Sakura-san gave him that morning.

"No."

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to walk you home," Shiho replied.

"You don't have to do that."

"But I should," was her retort.

Before the argument to escalate, Shiho loudly proclaimed, "oh look. We're here," and opened the door where a clipboard showed the name _Ann Takamaki._

Both of their expressions lightened, however, when they saw Ann's face.

"You guys are here!" she grinned.

"Oh, Ann, I thought something horrible happened to you!" Shiho breathed out, rushing to her best friend's side. "I didn't know anything until Akira told me after school! Why didn't you text me?"

"The signal here sucks," was her best friend's answer. "Anyways, am I glad you guys are here. I was nearly bored to death! The TV doesn't show anything good, and the nurses won't even let me get up and walk. It's horrible!"

Akira watched fondly as Shiho relaxed in the face of Ann's energetic chatter. He too, felt his worry melt away.

"Well, what landed you in the hospital in the first place?" Shiho asked. Ann tensed up.

"Uhmm...that is..."

Akira felt a headache building up. He knew Ann was hiding something, just like Shiho was hiding the volleyball practices from Ann. If these secrets didn't ruin their friendship, he knew the cause of these secrets just might.

"Let me guess, it was Kamoshida," he spoke, and hit the nail right on the head when Ann paled.

"H-how did you know?"

Akira shrugged. "A hunch."

"Kamoshida-sensei?" Shiho echoed. She frowned in confusion. "Why would he...? Ann, what did he do?"

"Uh...the thing is...you see..." Ann tried to stall, and every second she stalled, Shiho looked more and more horrified.

"Come clean," Akira encouraged. "You're only making us more worried."

Ann gave him a petulant glare.

She could see Shiho biting her own lip, and knew what Akira said was true though.

"I've been telling Kamoshida-sensei that I've been having Appendicitis. It was really only an excuse so I could avoid him...but I guess he caught onto my acting," she explained. "When my modeling company called me, he took the phone and told them he was escorting me to the hospital because I wasn't feeling well. He took me into the hospital, and the staff believed him when he said I was sick."

"Kamoshida knows the hospital staff?" Akira murmured.

"He's the P.E. teacher of Shujin. Sometimes our sports injuries are too much for the nurses," Shiho explained before turning back to Ann. "So how'd you get out of it?"

"I swear, the only reason I got off the hook was because I asked the doctor for a private examination because I was a girl and just admitted to stress and stomach problems," Ann shrugged. "The doctor asked me to stay over night because he trusted Kamoshida, and wanted to keep a close eye just in case what I had was more...dangerous. I promise, it's nothing too serious. You don't need to worry about it, Shiho."

"The way you reassure me only makes me even more worried," Shiho huffed softly. "Why would you tell him you had Appendicitis anyway?"

"An excuse," Ann answered, voice almost high-pitched.

Akira swore he could see sweat forming on the back of her neck.

"For?" Shiho prompted.

Shiho could probably see it too.

Ann hesitated. Both Akira and Shiho were staring at her expectantly, and dammit she knew they both had more things to worry about. When did she get such caring friends? Could she really continue to lie to them?

No, she decided. No, she couldn't.

"It was an excuse so I didn't have to go to his home after school."

The stillness of the room could've caught the tinkling of a needle dropping.

"Ann," Shiho started carefully. "Are...the rumors true? Are you and Kamoshida-sensei...?"

"No, no!" Ann shook her head almost violently. If she didn't already sit on a hospital bed, Akira would've gotten a wheelchair for her from how sick her expression was. "Never!"

"Then why would he invite you to his house?" Shiho questioned, her voice frenzied. Ann's evasive replies only served to make her more panicked.

In return, Ann seemed to panic too.

"I don't know!" Ann cried. "I don't know why he always gives me that sleazy look of his. I don't know why he encourages the rumors about compensated dating. I don't know why he would invite me to his house! I don't know why he's always so nice to me and is only nice to you when I'm there! Don't think I haven't noticed the bruises, Shiho!"

"This isn't about me," Shiho denied, her voice raised.

"Yes it IS!" Ann was almost screaming back. "He said—!"

There was a knock at the door. The receptionist peeked in.

"Visiting hours are almost over," she said, face unreadable. "You have ten minutes. And please, keep your voice down."

"We will," Akira nodded when both girls failed to answer. The receptionist acknowledged his reply and exited the room again.

Shiho's gaze, which had directed itself to the door, switched back to Ann.

"He said what, Ann?"

A pause.

"He said...he said...if I didn't do what he told me to...he would take you off the starting line-up..."

Shiho sat back down on the visitor's chair with a heavy thump.

When did she get up?

She wanted to curl up and just _die_. She caused trouble for Akira, almost getting him killed—no one gets bruises on their neck like that, and she wasn't oblivious to how _furious_ Kamoshida-sensei was—and she was causing trouble for Ann. She had half a mind to believe the school rumors were probably indirectly caused by her too.

If she hadn't dragged Ann in with her problems...

"Hey."

Akira's face appeared in her vision. Her hands were buried into her hair, gripping strands and almost pulling them out of her scalp. Akira's hands were placed on top of hers to stop that.

"Look at me," he said, and she did. "It's not your fault."

But it was. If only she hadn't been so selfish, if only she had quit the volleyball team, they wouldn't be here. Volleyball wasn't that great anyway. She could hand in her resignation letter—Fujiwara-chan was a better player than her anyway—

"Shiho!"

She looked up.

Both Akira and Ann were holding onto her hands. When her gaze landed on them, Ann even wiped away her tears.

Strange. When did she start crying?

"Everything's okay," Akira reassured. His hands pulled hers down into her lap, patting them gently.

"We're here," Ann followed up.

Shiho couldn't help it.

She jumped forward and hugged them both.

.

.

.

"We'll talk more about this tomorrow," Akira voiced, the first one to break up the hug. They had embraced—suffering under Shiho's deceivingly muscular weight—until the last of the visiting minutes ran out, and the receptionist poked her head in again.

She had given them one look, almost softened, and told them they'd better be out in five minutes or she'll kick them out personally. How nice.

"Yes, we will," Shiho affirmed.

"How about the Shibuya diner then? My treat," Ann offered.

"Sounds fine," Akira nodded. "And...can I have your chat ID?"

He remembered wanting to text Ann earlier that morning to make sure she was okay. 

Ann agreed, and Shiho gave her chat ID to Akira too before they went with another round of goodbyes.

They were at the train station before Shiho started speaking again.

"You know...for the whole year, I felt almost afraid to know if the rumors were true," she whispered. "I didn't want to believe...but now that I know the truth that's so much worse than the rumors, I feel a lot lighter. I wonder why. It's not like _blackmail_ is better than _compensated dating_."

"I wouldn't be able to stand not knowing anything, if I knew something was wrong," Akira stated lightly. "I would want to fix it. Perhaps it's the same with you. Now that you know, it's easier to take action."

"Then why did I wait so long...why didn't I act until you came along?" Shiho looked down, twiddling with her fingers. "I guess...I'm a coward. Too afraid to act. Too afraid of the backlash. What _can_ I do anyway?"

Akira didn't know how to answer. Even he didn't have a solution. The one piece of evidence that they could use to boot Kamoshida out of the school wasn't usable.

"Well, for one thing, you can get me home safely," he opted to say instead.

He earned himself a laugh from Shiho, and a friendly—if a bit strong—punch on the shoulder. He was probably going to have to check if that bruised later on. She was a lot stronger than she looked.

Their good mood lasted throughout the train ride. Akira didn't even have to take the prescribed painkillers.

By the time they reached Leblanc, the streets were dark. Entering the cafe was ironically a breath of fresh air, and Akira was reminded of earlier that morning. He felt lightheaded.

"Welcome back," Sakura-san greeted. "You brought a friend?"

Akira wanted to respond, but Shiho beat him to the punch.

"I was walking him home because he wasn't feeling well," she said. "Sorry for the intrusion. I'm Shiho Suzui."

"I'm the owner of the cafe. Sojiro Sakura. And...walking him back?" he raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?"

"Well, he did that yesterday. I thought it was my turn," Shiho returned cheekily, the good mood from earlier still present in her tone. "Anyways, I'll take my leave now. Feel better, Akira."

"Bye, Shiho."

The bell jingled her departure and Akira knew that he had to head upstairs now, but his feet felt glued to the ground.

"Kid? You alright?"

He felt dizzy...

"Y-yeah."

"You don't look it. Head upstairs and—hey?!"

Akira didn't even feel it when his face hit the floor.


	6. A Much Needed Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you just need to take a step back, and B R E A T H E.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really, really want to communicate with all of you better. Ao3 isn't so helpful in that aspect because I'm one of those people who can spam a chat, and I don't want the comments section to end up like that. Find me on tumblr as @ves-speaks or https://ves-speaks.tumblr.com/
> 
> I might post previews of Rainbows Come Only After Rain and I think it'd be fun if you guys can witness the many moods I go through when writing it. You wanna talk about other fics, talk about my fics, suggest prompts, complain about life—whatever. Just come bug me. Free digital hugs and cyber cookies!

"And this? I found it in his bag."

"It looks like a prescription from the General Hospital. That medicine would work, but it'll take a long time."

Akira woke up to the sound of Sakura-san talking to someone else—a female. Around him was the familiar lumpy futon he slept on for the past week. A cold hand touched his forehead, and the woman's voice hummed.

He tried to open his eyes.

"You're awake," the woman said matter-of-factly. Sakura-san stood a little behind her as she leaned forward towards Akira. "Can you see how many fingers I'm holding up?"

He squinted.

"Three..."

Correct. You seem coherent..." she leaned back, satisfied. "I'm Tae Takemi, the doctor from the clinic just a street away. You have a really high fever right now. Your temperature's been bouncing back and forth for the last few hours, which is better than constant heat, but it's still not ideal. It's a wonder you were able to last even a day in your state."

As she spoke, Akira sat up straight on his bed, and rubbed his head. His temples throbbed, most likely a side effect of passing out and hitting whatever was on the way to the floor.

"What now doctor?" Sakura-san asked.

"I'll be able to fix some medicine up for him. It's just an herbal blend, but it acts like antibiotics. When a patient has a fever, I tend to let it run its course and fight whatever bacteria strain they've caught, proven that it doesn't fry their brain. The herbal blend will make sure the temperature stays at a safe level," Doctor Takemi said, facing Sakura-san.

"How much will that be?" Sakura-san asked, rubbing the back of his neck contemplatively.

"2,000 yen. I have another matter I wish to discuss, however," the doctor continued, and faced Akira once more. Her eyes seemed to pierce into his soul. "Where on earth did you get that bruise?"

Akira stared at her dumbly before realizing he wasn't wearing the Shujin uniform anymore, and the bandages were gone. His neck was bare.

"I would like to know too," Sakura-san said lowly, his voice just shy of dangerous. "I thought I told you to stay out of trouble?"

"Or maybe trouble found him. Chokeholds are common in fights but you don't get bruises in the shape of hands from chokeholds. You can't even get that color if someone punched you in the throat unless they did it multiple times. If that was the case, you'd have lost your voice," Doctor Takemi crossed her arms. Her deductive reasoning showed that she was a true medical professional. "I suppose you won't tell the circumstances behind the injury?"

"Which circumstances would you believe?" Akira asked with a brittle smile. "If it was even a fight, it was a one-sided one."

"Fine then. I won't ask for specifics. As your attending doctor, I have to ask: how long has it been?" the doctor charged on.

She was nothing if not professional, so Akira answered like a good patient.

"A day."

She hummed contemplatively, very obviously eyeing the patches of brown and angry red around his throat.

"Borderline two if the fading edges are any indication," Takemi noted. "It's mostly surface damage, from what I can tell. Nothing internal. Have you been using bruise cream?"

"Yeah," Akira confirmed.

"Good. Continue to do so. Use gel with green tea extract if there's any inflammation. Is there anything else I should check before we conclude this visit?" Takemi asked, looking towards both Akira and Sojiro.

Sakura-san directed his gaze at Akira, who shook his head. With a nod, Takemi stood up.

"Well then. I'd like you to come down to the clinic in a few days so I can check your health's progress," she said, dusting off her doctor's coat. "If that's all, I'll send the medicine and bill to you later. Have a good day."

Akira watched as Sakura-san walked Takemi down the stairs. He would most likely walk her to the door and exchange a few words, preferably without Akira listening in.

Through the blurry attic windows, Akira could tell it was morning already. There was no way he could make it to school on time, not with how high the sun had already risen. Reaching for his school bag and checking his phone, the time on the screen confirmed his thoughts. Class was about to start in 5 minutes.

He never felt so anxious to get out of bed. Back in that small old town, there wasn't anything that required such urgency, but here in Tokyo, Kamoshida was an enemy to be fought. Shiho only wanted the man to stop, but Akira knew men like that couldn't just change overnight. They had to be put behind bars, or at least be heavily influenced by someone they trusted. The latter was impossible...but Akira thinks he can accomplish the former.

That man had to go before Shiho and Ann got hurt.

Or at least, hurt beyond healing.

Two weeks didn't seem like a long enough time to form a solid friendship—one of those weeks spent in silent acknowledgements and nodded greetings—but Akira didn't need a solid friendship to know those two girls didn't deserve what was happening to them. He didn't need an unbreakable bond to help them in whatever way he could. They befriended him, the 'transfer with the criminal record' after all. Kindness should be repaid with kindness.

There was also a part of him that was childishly selfish. That part wanted Kamoshida to just leave them the hell alone so he wouldn't see Shiho's bruises and Ann's frowns. He enjoyed their company. He wanted to enjoy it better without the looming threat of one of his friends being sexually harassed or emotionally blackmailed.

There was nothing he could do now though. His body felt sluggish despite the fact that he just woke up. If confronted with Kamoshida again, he knew his mind would feel just as slow. There would be no quick thinking to get him out of a tough spot. It was unmistakable; he needed rest.

He felt just about ready to fall asleep while sitting upright when his phone vibrated. Ann had made a chat room and Shiho was added in.

Next to Ann's icon, ellipses appeared, showing that she was typing. Akira could imagine that she was hiding her phone as Kawakami took roll call, glancing up every few seconds—

Sakura-san came back up the stairs, and Akira slowly set his phone down. Ann could wait.

The old cafe owner appeared almost unsure of what to say as he sat on the bedside chair where the doctor had been.

"You know, I gave you that number for a reason. If you weren't feeling well, I would've at least taken you to the clinic myself," he said, bracing his elbows on his knees.

"I didn't want to bother you," Akira shook his head, and it was the truth. Just not the whole truth.

Sometimes, it felt like Sojiro Sakura did not like Akira Kurusu. It wasn't outright hate or scorn, but just a little. Enough that Akira would've felt awkward asking anything of him.

"Well, some things just need to be bothered with or it'll get worse," Sakura-san sighed. "If you had told me you weren't feeling well yesterday, I would've believed you and taken you to a clinic. You slept in a storm after all...I guess I should've expected it."

"I didn't feel that anything was wrong," Akira shrugged.

"Man, you're such a pain in the ass," Sakura-san gruffly murmured, but there was no hostility behind it.

"Sorry."

"You're making it very hard to be stern with you. And that bruise...are you really not going to tell me about it?" Sakura-san inquired curiously. "I trust Doctor Takemi. She's a smart woman. If she's willing to believe you didn't get into a fight, the only other reason is that you're being bullied."

"I don't want to talk about it," Akira only said. Sakura-san gave him a disbelieving look before shaking his head.

"Well, no use complaining about it now. Whatever happened isn't coming back to bite me in the ass, so I'll let it be for now," he said, getting up from the seat. "Doctor Takemi also said it's bed rest for you. If your fever is down, we'll send you back to school tomorrow. I'll be opening the cafe now. Don't make a ruckus, you hear?"

Akira nodded.

Bed rest sounded like the most beautiful thing ever, but Akira also wanted to check the chat that Ann created. He unlocked his phone to see a myriad of messages already sent between Shiho and Ann. Even more continued to come through, slowly, but surely.

 **Ann:** Hey guys!

 **Shiho:** Hi Ann. It's class time now. Why are you texting...?

 **Ann:** It couldn't wait!

 **Ann:** Well, it could...but Akira's not in class!

 **Ann:** Akira, are you late? :(

 **Ann:** Are you ditching? :(((

 **Shiho:** He's probably in transit still. He's not the type to ditch.

 **Shiho:** Also, Ann. You're in class too if you know he's late. You shouldn't be texting.

 **Ann:** Aww, no 'welcome back?' No 'glad you're out of the hospital?'

 **Shiho:** You're fine.

Akira felt a grin creep onto his face.

 **Akira:** I'm sick. Won't be coming to school today.

 **Ann:** Are you okay?

 **Shiho:** What's wrong?

 **Ann:** Was it Shiho's cold-heartedness that gave you chills?

 **Shiho:** Or was Ann making you allergic with her texting?

 **Akira:** Just a fever.

 **Ann:** Who will sit behind me and distract the teachers for me?

 **Shiho:**...?

 **Shiho:** I don't think that's how distraction works.

 **Shiho:** Wouldn't you attract more attention, sitting in front?

 **Shiho:** Not like your clothes aren't a beacon already.

 **Ann:** Bull. The teachers always call on him to answer questions.

 **Shiho:** Ann's right though.

 **Shiho:** Who's going to help me with clean-up duty now?

 **Ann:** I can help if you need it.

 **Shiho:** Nah. I was just kidding. I'll be fine.

 **Ann:** You sure?

 **Shiho:** Yeah. It's just one more day.

 **Ann:** If you say so.

 **Ann:** Well, Mrs. Chouno coming in.

 **Ann:** I should stop.

 **Ann:** Hope you feel better Akira!

 **Shiho:** What Ann said. Get well soon, okay?

When he was sure the phone was silent and remained so, Akira placed it aside and tucked himself in. His breathing slowed and his eyes drifted shut, but a smile remained on his face.

Unsurprisingly, sleep came easily and comfortably to him.


	7. Awakenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little more bright and a little less complicated when you just talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait. I had originally agonized over this chapter for over two days, and wanted to upload on the third, but then life popped up and said "you need to spend time with your real life friends or you're gonna be sad and miserable the rest of your life." I had to.

Ryuji Sakamoto met the transfer student on the first day of school. They were both running late, and Ryuji had shown him the shortcut to Shujin. 

He didn't know the guy was the subject of rumors until he got to Shujin. Two boys were whispering to each other, and he found that weird. Usually it was only the girls who gossiped and found the rumor mill interesting. (And while he was distracted, the guy walked off towards the teacher's lounge. Ryuji couldn't blame him. The guy probably knew he was the subject of gossip.)

"What do you want, Sakamoto?" one of the guys had sneered when he caught Ryuji staring.

"What're you talkin' about?" he asked, not quite as meanly as the other.

"What, do you live under a rock? We're talking 'bout that one kid that just walked in."

"Yeah," his companion chirped in. "It's all over the net. Apparently he's got a criminal record."

The bell rang before Ryuji could call bullshit.

The guy looked as if he could barely hurt a fly! Of course, Ryuji wasn't judging a book by its cover. He just knew the guy didn't mean any trouble because Ryuji had been hostile for their first meeting. More aggressive than called for.

The guy just stared back at him placidly, as if waiting for him to cool down. If push went to shove, Ryuji could almost believe the guy would let himself be trampled upon.

That very same day, he was about to ask the transfer student to meet up with him after school. Maybe to be a friend? Maybe to talk about it? What would they even talk about?  
There was another fault in his plan, and that was the fact that he didn't know which home room the guy belonged to. It was perhaps coincidence that he saw the guy leave 2-D.

Ryuji didn't have a name, but he thought a "hey!" would've been good enough.

But then Kawakami came out of 2-D too, and was talking to the transfer student.

"You stay away from trouble—"

Ryuji didn't need to know what she was implying. Didn't need to know the whole conversation to _know_. He could feel it in his bones.

The guy didn't need any more trouble, and that was the definition of Ryuji. The school delinquent. The one black mark on Shujin's good reputation.

And with that, he turned around 180 degrees, and walked back down the stairs. The prepared greeting was stuck in his throat.

With each passing day, Ryuji listened as the rumors got worse and worse.

_"Did you hear? He killed someone."_

_"No way. I thought it was assault?"_

_"I heard that he always has a gun on him."_

"Hey!" he had shouted to one of the talking groups. They froze at his loud voice, and turned vicious glares to him.

"Sakamoto. What do you want?"

"Don't you think it's a bit rude to talk about someone behind their backs?" Ryuji sneered.

"Fuck off. It's not like you don't do the same with Kamoshida," one of the more bolder students refuted.

"So you admit to being just as vulgar as I am?" Ryuji shot back, and snorted when they turned around, silent.

A week later, the tones of the rumors changed.

_"Are you serious?"_

_"This is Ann Takamaki we're talking about. Maybe she likes bad boys?"_

_"I heard Suzui-chan was hanging out with him too!"_

_"You think they're being taken advantage of?"_

_"Nah. Kamoshida would've taken care of it if that was the case."_

Ryuji knew the rumors were always false. Each word made him scowl twice as hard, but what could he do? Intimidate the students? That would set the teachers—and **Kamoshida** —after him like hyenas. No thanks.

He stayed away from main halls, and took his breaks on the rooftop. The quiet up there was a bit lonely, yeah, but at least it wasn't filled with bullshit.

Still...he wondered.

What kind of person was the transfer student? What was he doing with Ann Takamaki and Shiho Suzui?

Takamaki was a good friend back in middle school. She was cool, if a bit ditzy.

Suzui though. Suzui was the only person in the whole school who was able to look at him in the eye after he got booted out of the track team. She had made eye contact, and gave him a grim, understanding smile.

He had been too mad—with Kamoshida, with his team, with the world, with _himself_ —at the time to appreciate her sympathy.

If the transfer student was truly a bad person, Ryuji couldn't see either girls associating with him.

Ryuji got his answer a few days later.

It was after school hours, and the building was almost empty. The three most infamous students were the last to leave, other than Ryuji. He hid behind a shoe locker, watching them talk.

"I can't believe your fever got better after a day," Ann huffed, arms crossed as she waited for them to finish changing shoes. "I wished I bounced back that fast."

"Sakura-san got me a good doctor," the transfer shrugged, straightening up and heading towards the door.

"He must really care about you," Shiho replied, following his footsteps. "Are you sure you're okay though? You still look a bit pale."

Ryuji didn't know the three of them walked home together. When they were clear out of the building, he hurriedly changed his own shoes and followed after them.

"Should we go to Shibuya diner then?" Ann offered.

"Sounds good."

"Okay, it's your treat then," Ann smiled slyly at the transfer.

"Why?"

"Because we would've gone yesterday, but _someone_ was sick."

"Ann, you can't hold that against him."

"Of course I can!"

"She's just kidding. We'll each pay for our own shares."

Ryuji shook his head. They seemed like they were getting along well. The rumors were clearly false...not that he believed them to begin with.

Still, it's been a long time since he heard Ann tease people like that. She was always so quiet back in the first year of Shujin...sometimes he didn't notice her until she already passed by, and he was watching her back.

Shiho too.

There was something different about her.

She seemed...well. Not happier. But lighter. Like she was sharing her burdens...

.

.

.

Akira watched with contentment as Ann and Shiho traded soft banter, all the way to Shibuya diner. They were seated at a booth and when they ordered, and the music the diner played filled in a soft silence.

"It's...been a while since I could enjoy a day after school like this," Shiho admitted demurely. "I think...the last time was back in middle school."

"Same. I've always tried to take more modeling shifts so I have an excuse to...you know," Ann gestured helplessly. "I've always really wanted a break, but...today was just the perfect time for it."

"Yeah. Kamoshida-sensei said there was no practice," Shiho agreed.

"And he didn't call me or text me," Ann added.

"It's a bit weird, isn't it? He's been so...integrated into our lives," Shiho winced.

When the waitress brought over their orders, they pasted smiles on their faces and compliments for the food. When she left, the conversation resumed.

"Why do you think he suddenly decided not to do anything today?" Ann inquired, taking the first bite of a fruit parfait.

"I don't know. I'm glad for it though. He's been going a lot harder on us," Shiho sighed, taking a bite of her own confectionery.

"How hard?" Akira frowned.

"Much harder than suicide runs," Shiho said wryly.

"Do you think it could be the video...?"

Shiho stiffened and slowly nodded, "it could be."

"Video? What are you guys talking about?" Ann interjected.

"A few days ago, Kamoshida-sensei...assaulted me," Shiho whispered quietly.

"Wha—?!"

Ann stood up in anger, attracting the attention of a few customers, but Shiho urgently pulled her back down.

"Shh! I don't want the whole cafe to know Ann!" she hissed.

"S-sorry. But...assault?!" Ann whispered back.

"Yeah. Akira was there...and he recorded the whole thing before stopping it," Shiho nodded, shaken. The experience still seemed clear in her mind, and dread started to wash over her again.

"It was the only way for him to leave us alone," Akira provided, taking over the conversation and snapping Shiho out of her slump. Before they could ask him about the details, he turned the conversation. "Do you think he's taking his anger out on the volleyball club?"

"It...could be. When I told Ann to stop coming to practices, he took it out on us. This could be another instance of that," Shiho agreed. "He stopped eventually but...at this rate, I don't think anyone can hang on."

"We have to do something...!" Ann scowled. She had long forgotten her parfait, but she gripped the delicate spoon in a deadly grasp. "This _isn't_ what a school should be like!"

"What _can_ we do? We're just students...and the people who can do anything are just...turning a blind eye," Shiho sighed, sinking into the booth.

"Let me help."

Three heads turned—

"Sakamoto?!" Ann almost screeched. "W-what are you doing here?!"

"Can't a guy relax in a diner?" he shrugged, arm propped on the top of the booth next to theirs. "I heard you wanna go against Kamoshida. Let me help."

"Then you've gotta tell us what happened to you last year," Ann bargained.

"Ann—!" Shiho protested.

"No, Shiho. He most likely heard what Kamoshida did to you if he was just sitting in the booth next to ours, and from the rumors of the school, he probably knows what Kamoshida did to me too. It's only fair," Ann explained, crossing her arms over her chest in a way to say that she was unmoved in her opinion.

"There's not much to tell," Ryuji glowered sullenly at nothing in particular. "He took over the track team with abuse, goaded me on about my dad, and broke my leg after I went in for a punch. It was my fault for fallin' for somethin' that...stupid."

"Was that why you quit the track team? Because of him?" Shiho asked.

"Hell no. Would've kept runnin' if I could. He broke my leg pretty good. Can't run without bucklin' down anymore," Ryuji laughed bitterly.

"Sorry for asking," Shiho looked away, her brows wrinkled.

"No sweat. I'm...over it. Mostly," Ryuji waved her off. All three of them could clearly tell he was lying but he changed the subject. "So. How about it?"

"Well...we're all in this boat together I guess," Ann nodded. "What do you think, Akira?"

"Why are you asking me?" Akira asked back.

"I dunno. You've been pretty quiet," Ann turned her attention back to her parfait and took a few bites. She looked almost contemplative before an expression of realization came to her. "If you don't wanna do anything, that's fine. I mean, you're on probation, aren't you? You can't afford to get into anymore trouble."

"She's right. I don't want you to get into any more trouble," Shiho bit her lip.

"What'd you do in the first place?" Ryuji chimed in. He had slid around the booths and joined them, plopping down next to Akira.

"Sakamoto!" Ann growled.

"What?! Rumors have been flyin' you know. I don't believe them or anythin', but it's nice to know."

"It's fine," Akira shook his head neutrally. He didn't mind answering because Ryuji didn't seem to be asking out of malice. He seemed genuinely curious, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. "I have a physical assault record. I didn't actually hit him. He just...fell on his own."

"Seriously?" Ann gaped.

"Wait...so...you got charged with probation because someone believed you hit them, which wasn't the case," Shiho rehashed. Her eyes were wide in disbelief, expression nearly mirroring Ann's.

"Talk about shit luck," Ryuji commiserated. "Did you know this guy?"

"No. I was walking home late and I heard a woman yelling for help. He was...assaulting her," Akira grimaced. "I just wanted to push him away a little. Give her a little breathing space. He was drunk...and ended up falling and scraping his head."

"For real dude?!" Ryuji visibly gritted his teeth. "What about the guy? What'd he get?"

"I don't know. He was the one who sued me."

"Geez, that's so unfair!" Ann shook her fist, almost as if she wanted to bang on the table.

"So that's why you were ready with the camera," Shiho breathed in awareness. "That's why...you baited him to chase after you. Kamoshida-sensei can't accuse you of assault if you have recorded evidence, if you had him react to you with ill-intent."

"The camera part yes. Everything else I...did on instinct," Akira rubbed the back of his neck. Shiho noticed, and blanched.

"Your neck..."

Ryuji and Ann looked between them, confused.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"When...that day," Shiho struggled. "When Kamoshida-sensei approached me, I was so scared. All I could think to do was push him away, but logically I knew he was too strong for me. I...I was about to give up when Akira lured him away..."

"I had recorded everything and Kamoshida chased me," Akira filled in simply.

"It was...probably an hour later Akira came back with a big hand print bruise on his neck," Shiho revealed. "I knew it was Kamoshida-sensei...but I don't know what exactly happened."

Ryuji and Ann looked at Akira expectantly. He stared back.

They met his gaze, and Shiho joined in.

"I...blackmailed him," Akira relented.

"Dude!" Ryuji stared at him in awe.

Akira almost laughed.

"Before he could catch me, I dropped the recording off in a bush in the courtyard. I told him to leave me and Shiho alone. If he killed me, he wouldn't know where the phone was, and someone would find it. Find the evidence on the phone."

"If he killed you?!" Ryuji shouted and shot up with righteous anger.

The diner quieted, and when he realized how quiet it got, his face turned red. Ann pulled him back down viciously.

"Sorry!" she chimed cheerfully. "We're practicing for a play, ahaha~!"

One by one, the diner patrons turned back to their own meals and conversations. Ann looked torn between yelling at Ryuji, and yelling at Akira. As the general hubbub slowly rose again, Ann seemed to come to a decision and repeated Ryuji's line, more quietly but no less aggressively.

"If he killed you?!"

"He honestly looked as if he would," Akira confessed. "I was grasping at straws."

"Holy...DUDE," Ryuji seemed to regain his awe. "You have some serious guts."

"If only that could get him through the year," Shiho lamented. "Ever since that day, you haven't seen Kamoshida-sensei, have you?"

"No...and thank god for that. I don't have enough nerve for it," Akira denied.

_KLANG!_

The four of them turned their heads towards the noise. A child had bumped into a waitress, making the waitress drop her tray.

Instead of worrying about her dropped dishes, the waitress immediately headed towards the kid and asked if he was alright.

"Isn't that our waitress?" Ann commented lightly.

"Yeah. She's pretty nice," Shiho answered. "Let's tip her a little."

"If only Shujin was like that," Ryuji sighed wistfully. "Be nice if people cared and got rewarded for it. Our old coach got fired for it."

A solemn pause.

"So what are we gonna to do? Get some photo evidence? More video evidence?" Ryuji asked. "S'not like there's anybody else he's harassin' other than you two," he gestured to the girls across from him.

"He abuses the volleyball team too though. We could get photo evidence of that," Ann suggested.

Akira thought that would be useless, but he didn't say anything.

They didn't need photo evidence. Real life evidence of the volleyball club members walked around the school daily, and none of the teachers were acknowledging it. Capturing it in a photo format wouldn't automatically make them see what they didn't want to see. Shiho seemed to agree with the same train of thought.

"We can try, but the volleyball team could simply just excuse the man's behavior. Photo evidence always need backup, like a testimony. My teammates would simply deny it if other people asked. I know that I've done it long enough," she voiced.

"Yeah, but they tell you, don't they?" Ryuji reasoned. "When my team and I were sufferin', we licked each other's wounds. It was a mutual kinda thing."

"You're right. They do confide with me...and I, them," Shiho confirmed. "But...it feels a little like betraying them."

"Betrayal?" Ann frowned. "Why?"

"We've kept it secret for so long, endured so much. If _I_ am the one who breaks all that out...it feels like..."

"You're spittin' their sacrifices back at 'em. Yeah, I understand that," Ryuji grinned sadly.

He and Shiho shared a look.

"I'll do what I can. Get some pictures of bruises and...everything," Shiho finally said. "I'm rarely on the bench, but I think that's the only time I'll be able to get anything. I refuse to take shots in the locker room."

"Fair enough," Ryuji shrugged. "I guess I can ask 'round if anyone's willing to speak up. There's bound to be someone."

"Should I do the same?" Ann questioned.

"I'd feel better if you would just lay low, Ann," Shiho replied hesitantly. "Kamoshida knows you're no longer suffering Appendicitis..."

"Say you're studying for exams," Akira pitched in. Ann merely nodded in agreement.

"You too Akira," Shiho frowned. "I was serious you know. Kamoshida-sensei will make your life absolutely miserable."

"I can handle it," he said, but when Shiho seemed to start glaring, he amended. "But I'll try to avoid him."

"So we're actually doin' this, huh?" Ryuji whistled. "If this all works out, we're gonna change the school."

"It sounds kind of thrilling," Ann agreed, finishing her parfait.

"You guys make it sound like some kind of civil rights campaign," Shiho sighed.

"Isn't it though?" Akira asked. "He's treating everyone like they're his property. We're going to liberate them."

"How poetic," Ann grinned. "I'm all for it."

Shiho looked at each of them with worried eyes, before she slapped herself, patting her cheeks together as if trying to wake up.

"I-if you're all serious about this, I've got to be too," she said, thrusting her hand out to the center of the table. "Come on team!"

"W-wait Shiho, this isn't what I think it—" Ann stuttered.

"HELL YEAH," Ryuji interrupted, putting his hand on top of hers, almost slapping it down on the table.

Akira, wordlessly placed his hand on top of theirs.

Three pairs of eyes implored Ann.

"Fine," she sighed.

"You have to do the cheer too," Shiho said.

"But we're in a diner!" Ann whined.

"Nope. You gotta," Ryuji grinned.

"Ready?"

"One—"

"Two—"

"GO TEAM!"

.

.

.

On that day, the four yearmates became close friends. Bonded by chains of captivity, and growing stronger all the while, they promised to break free together.

They tipped the waittress heavily...

But they were also kicked out from the diner due to ceaseless public disruptions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much to say about this chapter...but Ryuji. Dude. Bro. Buddy. You sound depressed. Cloudy. Sad. Feel better. Feeeeeel better.
> 
> Also, I have a head canon the Shujin sports teams are very teammate-oriented. Whoever's next to you on the field is your partner for life...like those sports animes. Which also stems the head canon of very cheesy 'team let's go' cheers.


	8. A Visit to the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You need more than just a plan. You need an action.
> 
> And a means to utilize that action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I all over the place? I hope I'm not. Or if I am, I hope it all ties together neatly in a little tight bow...
> 
> Or some good steel handcuffs on Kamoshida's wrists. That's acceptable too.

He knows he promised Shiho, and words were worth nothing if promises were broken, but he couldn't _not_ act.

Action was what defined Akira.

"Really, I'm busy," Ann rebuffed nervously, refusing eye contact with Kamoshida. "Exams are coming up and—"

"You can study at my place, Takamaki-chan," Kamoshida leered. He tried to hide it, to mask it with some sort of pleasantness, but it was a very obvious failure for people who knew how to look.

And Akira knew how to look.

"Well, the thing is, I promised I would help a friend with English..." Ann continued but it was very clear that she was losing her nerve.

She took a step back, and he took a step forward.

"Ann," Akira called out, walking casually up to teacher and student.

"Akira," Ann brightened, utter relief blatant on her face.

"I thought we were meeting up at the library. Do you feel sick again?" Akira frowned convincingly, eyes darting between Kamoshida and Ann. He was the picture perfect image of innocent worry.

"It's you," Kamoshida drawled distastefully, interrupting Ann before she could reply.

"Kamoshida- _sensei_. I've heard a lot about you," Akira copied the same tone.

The two of them stared down at each other, unwilling to back down. Ann glanced between the two of them warily, not wanting to bring attention onto herself and yet not willing to just leave this be...

Akira felt the bruise around his neck throb in reminder. he wondered if Kamoshida was thinking back to that same day. Dark frown, viscious snarling...

This calm man in front of him was a far cry from the monster that day.

Was it because Ann was here?

A burning anxiousness seeped into his skin and he felt a snarky response bubble up.

"Don't you have a volleyball rally tomorrow?" the words poured out mockingly. Akira froze and felt a vein in his jaw pop. He didn't mean for it to come out with that tone...

Kamoshida merely scoffed.

"I'm sure you've heard from the principal, but make any trouble and you'll be _expelled_ ," Kamoshida threatened. The words would've obviously been a kind warning from any caring teacher, but no caring teacher would've accosted a female student like this man did. "At any rate, I heard you were studying for exams? Go on. I shouldn't be stopping you."

Ann bowed her head slightly and bid Kamoshida a half-pleasant farewell as she pulled Akira down the stairs. When the two of them were significantly far enough away from that man, they both breathed an immense sigh and alleviated the stress in their shoulders.

Ann was the one who spoke first.

"What _was_ that?! You were mocking him!" Ann hissed quietly.

"I couldn't help it," Akira shrugged helplessly. "He started it first when he attacked Shiho anyway."

"That's no excuse! Shiho told you to lay low!" Ann refuted. "Not that I'm not glad you helped me back there, and thanks for that. But honestly! You were making yourself a target! He was threatening to expel you!"

"It wasn't really a threat. The principal did say that after all...and I can handle it. I was more worried about you," Akira replied. "He didn't seem to believe the studying excuse."

"Even if he did believe it, he would just...ignore it and do what pig-headed scumbags do," Ann rolled her eyes. "Anyways, are we actually going to the library?"

"Yes. I was heading there earlier to begin with," Akira confirmed.

They started walking.

"Are you actually going to study there?" Ann questioned worriedly. "I mean...that's a really popular place for students. And the rumors..."

"There are rumors about you too. I think we're on equal footing for that," Akira joked, cracking a small smile out of Ann.

"How funny would it be watching the delinquent walking in with the gaijin?" Ann reciprocated. "Shiho said lay low though..."

"I'm just going to pick up a book. You can wait outside for me and I'll come back out real quick?" Akira suggested.

"Sounds good."

When they were finally outside the library, Akira took a deep breath to prepare himself before walking in. Immediately, the whispers started and crashed down on him like a tidal wave.

He tried his best to blend all the voices and words together, make them as unintelligible as possible to cope, but it was hard. As he headed towards the social books, he could hear—

_"...that him?"_

_"What's HE doing here?"_

What _could_ he do in a library? What did they think he was going to do? Smoke? Drink?

He let his fingers trace on the bindings of thick covers on sturdy shelves, eyes staring a little too intently at the words as he tried to find what he was looking for. In the corner of his vision, he saw one particular student stare at him.

That student wasn't even trying to hide it.

Just because Akira wasn't looking directly at the student didn't mean he couldn't sense the intense stare...

How rude.

He had to focus though. The group's goal was very clear: get rid of Kamoshida. Whether it was as a teacher or as a respectable member of society, Kamoshida was fit to be neither. Short of murder, they had to completely ruin him. Legally.

That meant taking it to court. The question was "how?"

He wasn't going to outright say he was going to sue Kamoshida. Neither could Shiho, or Ann, or Ryuji. That just wasn't going to work.

Akira hadn't any idea on how to incriminate Kamoshida, but he figured there was an easier question to answer first.

"What" would Kamoshida be charged with?

Assembling a case against a teacher needed more than just evidence and testimonies acquired from ordinary high school students, or a simple cry of _abuse_. That meant a little research. As much as Shiho, Ann, and Ryuji wanted to tell the world and be done with it, Akira knew the world didn't work like that.

Nothing's ever so easy.

The definition of abuse was to _treat a person with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly._ In the victims' eyes, Kamoshida was abusing them. But to the ordinary bystanders, he was merely training them to be volleyball athletes. As an Olympic champion, it wouldn't be too implausible for his standards to be a bit higher than average. (Or a lot.) What's a bruise or a broken bone, if a student could reach the same level of glory that he did?

Akira planned on finding the thin line between reasonable and unreasonable.

The limit of what a teacher can do, Olympic athlete or not.

Upon finding the title "A Teacher's Handbook for Dummies," Akira felt as if he accomplished half his task. He took his time walking to the library counter. He could tell the students in the vicinity wanted him out, but that only made him want to stay longer.

He wouldn't go out of his way to stay more than he liked, but he was in no rush. Spite was such an awful human trait.

"Oh, hello. I don't think I've seen you before," the librarian looked up from her magazine. "Are you...that transfer student?"

"Yes," Akira nodded, seeing no reason to lie.

"Oh," the librarian's face fell. "Uhmm...did you need something?"

"I'd like to check this book out," he responded easily.

"Alright," the librarian reached for the volume. She scanned it under the computer, but seemed hesitant on giving it back. "A Teacher's Handbook for Dummies huh? Any particular reason you're checking this book out?"

"I thought the _for dummies_ part was very interesting," Akira deadpanned. "Can I have the book now?"

"Well, it's just...the library _is_ getting this back, right?"

"Naturally."

"Oh..."

Akira stared incredulously as the girl fiddled with the book in silence, switching her gaze from the pages to him, and back to the contents of the book.

"Is something the matter?" someone cleared their throat behind Akira. He wanted to ask the same thing.

He turned around to see a pretty brunette, the origin of the question.

"Oh, Miss President!" the librarian chirped more cheerfully, if still a bit falteringly. "I was just making sure he understood our library policies!"

Akira stared at her. He couldn't quite tell what was on his face, but it probably wasn't flattering considering the librarian's grimace after she fibbed.

"I see," the so-called 'Miss President' droned. "And does he?"

"Uhmm..."

"I do," Akira nodded.

"Then what seems to be the problem?" Miss President turned to the librarian, but received no reply. She raised an eyebrow, and shook her head in confusion. "May I see the book?"

"Oh, of course!"

Akira watched the exchange with...something. He couldn't quite put a word on this feeling of...something. Was it indignation? Helplessness? Exasperation?

Miss President flipped the book from cover to cover. "An interesting pick. I don't recall any of this information in the upcoming exams though."

"Sometimes it's good to take a break from studying. A little variety reading never hurt anyone," Akira commented neutrally.

"Variety, you say? I can understand that. I am curious though, why a book about teachers?"

"I'm sure you've heard the rumors going around, Miss President. I have a criminal record. That paints a target on my back, and who better to aim at it than the instructors?" Akira gave a fragile smile. As Miss President was about to protest, Akira persisted with a counterargument. "I know Shujin has a good reputation to uphold...even better when they're willing to accept someone like me and give me a second chance. But can you honestly say that some people won't take advantage of me? Of my bad reputation? Regardless of the crime I committed, I am a student. It's my right to know the boundaries of the teachers."

A brief silence.

"And if I say yes? That I do believe the staff at Shujin are all responsible and will not take advantage of you? Would you leave this book in the library?" she peered at him with more interest.

"I'd say you're too optimistic and you've never been hurt by authority figures. I would check the book out anyway. If they're really good people, I can't do anything to them. If they're to be distrusted, I'm merely...shielding myself," Akira said.

"I suppose you're right," she agreed slowly, mind churning with Akira's words. He didn't seem to be lying, and he was clearly an intellectual, criminal record or not. (In hindsight, that should've rang the alarm bells inside her mind. A smart criminal was a dangerous criminal after all...but it didn't.) "And it _won't_ hurt anyone for a student to read about a teacher, isn't that right?" she looked at the librarian as she said this, and the librarian seemed suitably admonished.

She handed the book over with no small amount of grace.

"I hope you enjoy it," she said, nodding a small farewell.

"Thank you."

Akira put the book in his bag and headed to the exit without sparing the librarian a glance. Ann was busy tapping away at her phone when he emerged. She looked up and they fell in step together as they left school.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You look like you tasted something bad."

"Nothing. Just a little...confrontation with the Student Council President."

Ann stopped and did something similar to a spit take, almost tripping on her own two feet. 

"Akira! I thought we were laying low!"

.

.

.

Sakura-san was cleaning the cafe counters when Akira came back.

"You're early today. I'm just about to close up shop," he said, straightening up.

"Mhmm."

"You sure are a man of little words, huh?" Sakura-san sighed. Akira thought back to the conversation with the Student Council President, and mentally denied that observation. "Sit down, I want to have a little chat."

He did as he was told, setting his school bag to the side as he took a seat on one of the bar counter chairs.

"So. How's school?" Sakura-san started off, placing a hand on his hip in a casual manner. "You're not causing any trouble, are you?"

"I'm not."

"I figured that would be your answer," Sakura-san rubbed the back of his neck. "I need to ask you anyway because I have to report to your probation officer at least twice a month. That means telling them about that bruise around your neck. What do you have to say about that?"

Akira seemed to think about what to say before he actually said it.

"Someone...was in trouble. I got in the way."

Sakura-san stared at him disbelievingly before sighing in a mixture of aggravation and...something Akira couldn't quite name.

"This society is kept in check by laws and authority figures. If someone's in trouble just...call the cops, kid! You don't need to deal with this crap, and I don't either. You keep pulling the same shtick back home and you're gonna get killed!"

Akira couldn't quite meet Sakura-san's eyes.

"Look, just keep your head down and—"

Sakura-san's cell phone rang, cutting his words off. He pulled it out of his pocket.

"Hm? What's wrong? ...Yeah, I'm heading out now. Sorry about that...I know, the usual, right? Okay. I'll see you later."

Akira couldn't quite believe Sakura-san could smile, but there it was. He looked away before he got caught staring.

"Look, I'm quite busy with my work and my private life. I can't juggle your problems too, so you better keep yourself clean, you hear?" Sakura-san huffed. His clear aggravation took a 180 turn though, and changed into something more contemplative. "And...if you could lend a hand every so often, it'd be a burden off my back. What do you say?"

Akira couldn't quite imagine that Sakura-san would be a person to let a criminal help run a shop, but at the same time, he couldn't deny the words he just heard.

He'd be a fool to reject an offer like that.

"I'd love to help."

"Now we're talking," Sakura-san nodded with a smile. "I won't ask you to work for free of course. In exchange for a part-time shift...how about I teach you how to make a good cup of coffee? None of that crap high school kids buy from the corner shop. Real coffee."

"I'd like that," Akira nodded.

"Also, Doctor Takemi wants an appointment with you tomorrow at 8. I've already notified your school that you'll be late that day. After the check up, she'll will write you a note," Sakura-san said. "You'll be back at school no later than third period. We'll know if you skip."

"I've got it."

"Good. I'll be locking up then. Don't stay up too late."

"I won't."

In a matter of minutes, the cafe was silent. Akira slumped down in the chair, and let his thoughts wander to the book in his bag.

It was an obnoxiously bright paperback volume about two inches thick. The words were decently sized, but the font was a thin lettering crammed line after line. It'd take more than a few hours to finish, but if he was determined enough, he could work through a little more than half of it tonight before it got too late.

Tomorrow morning, he could try to find a good train seat and attempt to finish it.

He climbed the stairs to the attic with that plan in mind when his phone rang with messages.

Ann added Ryuji to the chat.

 **Ann:** Everybody here say Aye.

 **Ryuji:** Aye?

 **Akira:** Aye.

 **Ann:**...

 **Ann:** Shiho isn't responding...strange.

 **Ryuji:** She sleepin'?

 **Ann:** It's six. SIX.

 **Ryuji:** Yeah, okay. That was a dumb answer.

 **Ryuji:** Still at school then. Sports practice?

 **Ann:** Could be. Anyways! Akiraaa.

 **Akira:** What is it?

 **Ann:** What did you pick up at the library today?

 **Ann:** I forgot to ask.

 **Akira:** A Teacher's Guide.

 **Ryuji:** Man, what for?

 **Akira:** I know that you and Shiho are getting evidence.

 **Akira:** But if we don't know what a teacher's boundaries are, we don't know what evidence is useful and what is baseless.

 **Ann:** Wow that's smart.

 **Ryuji:** It's like one of those mangas.

 **Ann:**?

 **Ann:** You mean those superhero ones?

 **Ann:** You were always reading those in class.

 **Ryuji:** Still am!

 **Ryuji:** I couldn't put 'em down man!

 **Ryuji:** And yeah. Akira's gotta be the brains of a superhero group or somethin'.

 **Ann:** That means we're the superhero group!

 **Ann:** Can I be the main heroine?!

 **Akira:** You can be whatever you want to be, Ann.

 **Ann:** I can't tell if you're sarcastic or not.

 **Ryuji:** Same. You seem like you're too chill to be jokin' with us plebs.

 **Ann:** Right? 

**Ann:** Anyways...tomorrow's the volleyball rally.

 **Ann:** I'll try to snap a few pictures of injuries too.

 **Ann:** There's bound to be something that's visibly close to abuse.

 **Ryuji:** It'll be the perfect time for me to ask around without being suspicious too.

 **Akira:** We'll be counting on you.

 **Ann:** Yeah!

 **Ryuji:** Leave it to me!

Akira set down his phone and rolled his neck and shoulders.

If his friends were doing all that they can, he would put his all into this too.

He grabbed a pack of post-it notes and cracked open the first page.

_Before becoming a teacher, before you even contemplate the thought of entering that career path, you have to ask yourself a few questions first. Are you a hero? What qualities make you see yourself that way? Children are the future of the world, and students learn from role models. It's a monkey see, monkey do world out there and..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got questions? Theories? Suggestions? Found a plot hole? Come hound me on ves-speaks.tumblr.com . It'll be like a date. I swear I don't bite.


	9. Check Ups and Check Outs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are slowly falling into place. One by one, the puzzle will be solved. It's only a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait. I really have no excuse, other than the fact that my motivational high seems to have run out haha. I can say this much: I won't be updating every day, or every other day, but I WILL finish this fic if it's the last thing I do. I might just take a little time to get it up to quality.

"Are you sure there isn't anything you wanna tell us about—"

"I _told_ you there is nothing to tell! Now leave me alone before I call Kamoshida-sensei!" the volleyball member hobbled away, broken leg in a cast dragging behind him as he left. Ann and Ryuji watched him leave with matching faces.

"Maybe you were being too straightforward," Ann offered weakly.

"How much more noy-straightforward can I get?!" Ryuji growled, rubbing the back of his head furiously.

"I don't know, but the way you're going about it sure isn't working," Ann snorted inelegantly at Ryuji's more violent response.

"How about YOU try it next time then?!" he retorted.

"Sure thing. Leave me with damage control," Ann rolled her eyes, but then sighed. "I can't believe they're all saying the same things. I mean, Shiho warned us about this, but..."

"You'd think at least one of them would slip up or somethin'," Ryuji finished her sentence, kicking at the floor with a sullen frown of his own.

It was break, and second period was just over. Everyone had already changed into their physical education jumpers in anticipation of the volleyball rally, and it was quite easy for two blondes to blend in to a sea of red. Ann had been feeling restless and tagged along with Ryuji, asking members of the volleyball team subtle questions about Kamoshida.

Or as subtle as Ryuji could manage anyway.

Shiho gave Ryuji a few names and faces, but it was easy to pick out who to ask even without that. The bandages and casts and bruises spoke for themselves, shouting the obvious. It just wasn't easy getting answers out of them.

In fact, they weren't able to get any answers at all.

They were at the bottom of the stairs on the first floor, which was surprisingly empty.

"I don't get it! Why would they defend someone like that?!" Ann bristled in helpless anger.

"I kinda get it. It's not about protecting Kamoshida...more like protectin' everyone else," Ryuji shrugged, just as helpless.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I dunno how to explain it. It's just...kinda the same as when I was on track with Nakaoka and Takeishi. Sure, workin' with Kamoshida hurt, but it was either workin' through it or disband. We chose the better choice, one that would eventually mean it was a good choice," Ryuji clarified.

"Still," Ann groaned. She wasn't a sports person, so she couldn't really understand. Ryuji was only making her more confused.

"Come on, Shiho named one more person we could ask," Ryuji sighed. "The Captain of the female volleyball team."

"Erin Fujiwara, right?" Ann recalled.

"Right."

They found her in the courtyard, talking with another female member. In comparison to the other members of the volleyball team—both male and female—she sported less obvious injuries. The most prominent evidence had to be her leg brace, one similar to the one that Shiho had worn.

"Excuse me, Fujiwara-san?" Ann spoke up.

"Yes?" the girl turned to face them, sharp eyes darting first to Ann, then to Ryuji. Her face was overshadowed by something suspicious and guarded.

"You're the Captain of the female volleyball team, aintcha? Got some questions for you," Ryuji said rather casually when Ann faltered. Fujiwara only seemed to tense up even more. "Where'd you get those wounds?"

"What's it to you?" she snarked, eyebrows creasing into an immense glower.

"We were just wondering since everybody seemed to match. Are bandages the new trend now?" Ann followed up, but there was a quiver in her voice, and Fujiwara preyed on it like a tiger.

"I know what you're probably thinking," she started, softly, but not kindly. "And I don't appreciate it. I saw you hounding each one of my teammates earlier, and it would be _nice_ of you to back off and mind your own business."

"Look, we're just tryna help!" Ryuji shouted.

"Help?! We don't _need_ help from _you_ Sakamoto. Whatever you're implying with your intention to "help," I can stop you right here, right now, and say it's not true," Fujiwara snarled, advancing onto Ryuji. Immediately, the blonde boy's stance faltered when she got into his face.

"Whoa—"

"So you listen, and you listen well," she huffed, poking Ryuji in the chest for each word. "You take take your help, and shove it. The volleyball team doesn't need pity."

Ann couldn't help but feel as if the stare-down between Ryuji and Fujiwara was a repeat of yesterday. Ryuji had the same clench of his jaw like Akira did, and Fujiwara looked just as menacing as Kamoshida with her conviction.

"Fine," Ryuji finally said, taking a step back. There was a quiet anger, something Ann wasn't used to seeing.

Ryuji was always the loudest brat in the room. Even after a year or two, she couldn't see that changing. His bright blonde hair was obnoxious enough to match her flashy style. If he had to be angry, it would be the loud, explosive sort. This one was just...quiet. Simmering and cold, but no less fierce.

Before Ryuji could walk two paces away, and just as Ann was starting to follow him, Fujiwara spoke up again. Her voice was blithe and scathing all at the same time.

"Oh, and was it you guys who convinced Shiho-chan to rat on us? She got what she deserved."

Ann could feel the blood in her veins freeze with horror. Her feet started taking her somewhere, and faintly she could hear Ryuji calling for her.

But all she could think of was... _she should've paid more attention to her best friend._

.

.

.

Sakura-san—or Boss, as he should be calling the man he would start working for—had cooked Akira another curry breakfast before sending him off to Takemi's clinic.

Having the same food everyday was no doubt detrimental to one's health, but he couldn't be picky. And if he was being honest with himself, the curry was delicious. He couldn't complain.

The walk was short, and school had yet to even start when he arrived to the clinic.

It was a well air-conditioned establishment, if a bit dingy looking with how out-of-the-way it was. Still, the woman was able to prescribe him herbal tea that chased a fever away—or whatever it was plaguing his ailing body—in a day. He couldn't exactly be suspicious of her now.

"You're here," she noted as he walked in through the double white doors. "Come on in through the examination room."

The side door clicked open and he went in. It was a simple room with a patient bed, a desk with a computer, and some shelves with micellaneous things. Papers were stacked in dangerous towers, and though it looked steady, it was anything but neat.

Akira took a seat on a roller chair in front of the doctor.

"Alright, I'm going to do the standard examinations and clear your bill of health. Shouldn't be too much trouble, as I have no doubt the medicine did it's job. It's just for the record," Doctor Takemi informed.

On the desk was a one-time use thermometer, which she stuck under his tongue after instructing him to open his mouth. She wasted no time in using the stethoscope, checking his heart rate, checking his ears, checking his eyes, and then checking his reaction times.

She was nothing but professional.

When she removed the thermometer, Akira was able to speak.

"Do you keep track of all your patients this way?" he asked curiously as she wrote down notes on a clipboard.

"Some of them. The old lady down the street knows when to find me when her joints ache, but then there are more stubborn patients who think they know better and stop medications when they think they're alright," she replied without looking up. When she did, a dry smile twisted onto her face, unnerving Akira. "I tend to take...liberties, with unwilling patients."

It was as if she made an inside joke no one knew about. He ignored it in favor of understanding her.

"Why?" he followed up with another question.

"Why not?" she responded, relaxing in her chair and tapping the clipboard on her shoulder. She seemed to be entertaining his curiosity, releasing some of the professionalism. "You seem like a sensible kind of person, even if you did sleep outside when it was raining cats and dogs. If you saw someone that needed help, wouldn't you help?"

Akira had to concede to that.

"Don't mistake me," she continued. "I'm not a bloody martyr. I just like to put the knowledge I've gained to good use. As a doctor, I also get paid to care."

"Paid...?" Akira murmured to himself, and then he comprehended. "The house call...how much was it?"

"Hmm? Why do you want to know?"

"Sakura-san recently allowed me to work for this coffee house part time. He's a crafty man, asking me to help out at his shop rather than ask me to outright pay for it...but I feel like I owe him more," Akira sighed.

"From what he told me, he locked you out of your lodgings," Takemi set her clipboard down, and crossed her arms.

"He made it very clear that he was going to lock me out if I came home late, so it's really my fault," Akira brushed off. "He's been pleasant enough, for someone who took me in unwillingly. Will you let me work off the bill?"

"Work off...?" Takemi repeated. "I don't have anything for you to do here."

"Not even as an assistant? As an independent practice, you seem to be the only worker here. Isn't it tedious being both doctor and receptionist?" Akira pushed.

"It's no problem. I'm never too busy to handle both," Takemi dismissed. "Although...if you're serious about helping..."

She was tapping her fingers against her chin in contemplation, leaving her statement on an omnious tone.

"Yes?" Akira prompted.

"Well...you're a very healthy male teenager. How's your muscle mass?"

"I'd like to say average," Akira replied.

"Hmm. If you're serious about this, how about you help me with a little...experiment?"

Akira looked taken aback. Suddenly, the whole clinic seemed to feel a lot more sinister.

The lights didn't flicker or anything. Nothing supernatural occurred. It was just...the atmosphere. The air conditioning was all of a sudden too cold, the cabinets now seemed too messy to him, the patient's cot too rickety—

"What kind of experiment?" he pushed on, disregarding the little hairs standing up on the back of his neck.

When Takemi gave him a grin that showed a little teeth, Akira almost regretted asking.

.

.

.

"SHIHO!"

Ann burst into the infirmary with no expense on volume, triggering the nurse to shriek in fright.

"Ann, quiet!" Shiho hushed, putting a finger to her lips.

"Oh my god I'm so glad you're okay, Fujiwara-san said something happened to you and I was so afraid that maybe—"

"Ann, Ann! Ann slow down, I'm fine!" Shiho reassured. While she looked happy that her best friend was here, the nurse was another story.

"Suzui-san, as happy as I am to know that you have such a good friend—"

The nurse was interrupted as the door banged open once more to reveal Ryuji. She didn't shriek this time, but her glare was even worse.

"Out of my office! All of you!"

"W-wait, sensei, they were just worried about me! We'll be quiet," Shiho placated, hands up in a surrendering gesture. Her eyebrows were furrowed into a worried frown, and Ann noticed the giant bruise above her eye. The nurse's countenance softened.

"Fine. But _quiet_ please."

As she turned back to her work, whether it was organizing student health files or whatever, Shiho took Ann and Ryuji to the back part of the infirmary near the windows.

"Shiho...what happened to you?" Ann breathed out, horrified at the blue and purple blemish upon her best friend's skin.

"I got careless," Shiho looked to the side. "I thought it was safe that he wasn't paying attention to me when he put me on the bench. He just...looked over and saw me on my phone. Usually he doesn't like it when people are on their phones in his class, but...maybe it was because Akira took that video that he got overly angry with me."

"So he hit you," Ryuji snarled. "Nothing new."

"No, it's nothing new," Shiho agreed. "He stomped over and just broke my phone. Started yelling at me. Hitting me. He seemed almost...insane..."

"So that's why you didn't text back last night...what else did he do to you? Any other injuries? Why are you still in the infirmary?" Ann fussed.

"Fujiwara-taicho stopped him before I got more than a black eye," Shiho smiled. "I'm fine. And I'm just here to get some more bruise cream. I was about to leave."

"Fujiwara did? Really?" Ryuji chimed in, skeptical frown on his face. "She said you deserved whatever you got and—"

"Ryuji!" Ann glared.

"It's true!" Ryuji glared back.

"We all have our hands tied behind our back. The volleyball captain especially. The coach may be the one guiding us, but it's the captain who cares for us. She did her best," Shiho defended.

"If you say so," Ryuji snorted. "What now? We have no evidence, we have no testimonies..."

"No thanks to you," Ann piped up.

"Hey, it ain't my fault they're all so effin' defensive, alright?!"

"Actually," Shiho smiled slyly as she stepped in between the two blondes. "My phone may be broken, but everything inside was still intact. I have my SD storage card right here."

They stared at her for a minute before smiles broke out.

"There must be a few photos in there we can still use then!" Ann concluded.

"Right!" Shiho almost felt like she could match Ann's exhuberant grin before it faltered slightly. "How did the questioning go?"

Ryuji and Ann shared a look that was a complete 180 from a smile.

"Not so good huh?" Shiho giggled weakly. "Maybe you were too bold?"

Ann glared at Ryuji. "I told you so."

"You didn't tell me nothin'! And it went just fine!" Ryuji huffed in denial. While he turned his head away, the girls could see the tips of his ears turning red.

Deciding to save Ryuji from further embarrassment, Shiho cleared her throat. "I guess I'll process the photos and videos. See what's useful."

"It's nice that we have the photo evidence now, but what good is that?" Ann sighed.

"It's progress," Shiho concluded. She wasn't any more optimistic, but she went through trouble to get this. She didn't want to think that it was all for nothing. "The real question is what should our next move be?"

"We could turn it in to the police," Ann suggested.

"Police ain't gonna do shit," Ryuji scoffed. "And ain't it illegal to record a teacher or something?"

"You're right," Shiho groaned, frowning in annoyance. "Even if we pass the information anonymously, the police could trace it back to us. We need some way to give it to them, without them knowing it was us..."

"Any ideas?"

"Don't look at me. I would've said something if I did have any."

"We're stuck..."

The three of them looked at each other helplessly.

"Wait, aren't we missing someone?"

"Oh you're right...where's Akira?"

.

.

.

The train ride to school was pleasant. With the late hour, there weren't as many students or businessmen, clamoring to get to class or work. A few university students with later hours were there, a few housewives perhaps making a trip to the grocery store, and the rare tourist was trying his hardest to read the subway maps.

Akira easily grabbed a seat and finished the book on teacher guidelines.

He admitted to skimming a lot of it. He had no need for information as to how a teacher needs to organize their files—though to his stupidity, he had already read it before realizing it wasn't important. Instead he focused on parts of the book and summarized it into concise and impactful statements.

Two main ideas that Kamoshida violated.

_A teacher is a role model in which a student emulates, and thus a teacher must show virtues such as patience, kindness, and understanding. Anger and spite have no place in an academic enviroment, violence even moreso, and if you possess these qualities or are unable to restrain them, you have no place in a learning establishment._

_A teacher is someone who students listen to. This is not the right of a teacher, but a privilege; no teachers should abuse this privilege by telling a student what they cannot do. Instead, tell a student what they should strive for to fix their failings._

He probably wasn't going to remember them word for word, post-it notes or not, but Akira got the gist of it.

By the time he got off the train, Akira's mind was whirring with possibilities. While this showed Kamoshida unfit to be a teacher, it wasn't in any way incriminating. It wasn't even something to be fired for! After all, Kamoshida did get his credentials somehow, and the most he would recieve was probably a slap on the wrist.

So absorbed into his thoughts that he almost didn't realize he was at school, and Kawakami was standing in front of him.

"You're late," she said simply.

"I thought Sakura-san informed the school I was excused for a medical exam?" Akira frowned. He had headed over right after the exam. He couldn't be that late.

"No one told me," Kawakami raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a note?"

Akira handed it over.

She inspected it, and nodded.

"Alright. Keep it on you, just in case any of the teachers try to confront you then," Kawakami sighed. "Ms. Chouno was...a bit irate. It was her turn to ask you a question today."

"The teachers...are picking on me?" Akira voiced. He didn't really know how to feel about it. He knew it had been a bit unusual that the teachers were always asking him questions.

He got picked at least four times a week, always at the beginning of class.

"They're not bullying you, if that's what you're thinking," Kawakami seemed almost amused. "Ushimaru-sensei probably was, the first time he asked you a question. He has a tendency to pick on students he thinks doesn't pay attention. It's where he gets his kicks from being a bitter old man. When he realized you got it correct, he told the rest of us staff. We didn't believe it of course, so we decided to test you ourselves. You probably study a lot, huh?"

"Not particularly," Akira shrugged. "Now that you know I can answer the questions, why do you still do it?

"Well, you do realize the rumors are dying down a bit? You know, the one about you having a criminal record?" Kawakami continued, despite looking a bit disappointed he wasn't a study-oriented person.

"They have?"

"Geez," Kawakami sighed from the lack of appreciation. "With every answer you get right, the students look at you and see more than what they've heard from rumors. Your records were never meant to be leaked. You weren't supposed to be targeted. It must have been one of the teachers who had a big mouth and just...yapped it in front of some student. We're just trying to fix a mess we probably caused. If this keeps up, you'll have a sparkling reputation by the end of the year. We just keep asking you questions, and you just keep answering correctly, alright?"

"So...you're helping me?" Akira frowned in confusion.

"Contrary to what you might think, we're not evil," Kawakami bit out tiredly. "We're teachers, not demons. We care. Now, come on. The volleyball rally is about to start. You should go get changed before you're even more late."

She turned on her heel and left, leaving Akira to stare at her with puzzlement. She seemed more like the type of person to just leave him in the dark rather than explain that the teachers were helping him regain a better reputation. The teachers of the school too...he had thought they were just there for the salary. After all, if they really cared about the students, then why was Kamoshida still here? They couldn't be that blind, right?

Or maybe Kamoshida was just good at hiding his true nature.

Either way, he made haste and fell back into school instruction. He took a deep breath, and approached the gymnasium.


End file.
